Insatiable Desires
by ItzMegan73
Summary: What happens when the paths of two highly intelligent hypersexuals cross?
1. Chapter 1

I reached over and scrubbed at a scuff mark that had mysteriously appeared on the toe of my new steel gray Converse sneakers. It wasn't that big a deal, I just needed something to do in between trying to show my mother how irritated I was that she was talking on the phone, and waiting to get our little _kumbaya_ moment over with so that I could get on with my day.

"I'm gonna go," I warned her as I gestured toward the door.

She totally would have been my hero in that moment if she'd have flipped me off and told me to park my ass right where I was. But no, Ms. Renee Swan, the professional people pleaser, would never do anything like that. Instead, she merely frowned and held up her hand for me to wait a minute. I think she even managed to scrutinize her manicure in the process.

I didn't try to mask the venom in my sigh as I threw myself back down in the chair. Normally, when I found myself hauled into my mother's bargain-decorated at-home-office, it was because I'd done something to warrant her incessant need to understand the motivation behind my actions. Her words, not mine.

That's basically my mother in a nutshell: always trying to understand. She thought it was her lot in life to take some dirty little stain on society, polish it off, give it a fancy name and make it socially acceptable enough that it wasn't considered an issue at all.

No, my mother isn't one of those trash-to-treasure people you see on public access television that travel all over the world trying to turn garage sale fodder into million dollar paychecks. She's a psychiatrist – a certified mental health physician; which is kind of funny: she's certified to tell people they're certifiable.

It's actually the perfect job for her…and for me.

My mother earned her doctorate from the University of Washington when I was three years old. It was, and still is, an amazing feat: medical school with a baby. My mother made a lot of sacrifices to get where she is today, and if you ask her, it still isn't where she wants to be.

One of the many sacrifices she made was the amount of time she spent with me. Not that she likes to talk about it, but my first word was "Bubba". That was the name of the cat that belonged to the lady who used to live next door to our apartment when I was just a kid. My mother used to pawn me off on her whenever she needed to study – which was all the time. Needless to say, Bubba and I were so well acquainted that I was five years old before I found out that he wasn't _my _cat.

When I was nine years old, my mother got her first official job at the Children's Hospital in Seattle. My grandma came with us so that she could take care of me while my mother worked a trillion hours a day for what seemed like an eternity. In reality, it was only two years. Grandma was cool and all, but she'd had my mother when she was forty. Add twenty-seven years to that, and it becomes obvious why Grandma wasn't the most attentive, or observant babysitter.

This is usually the part of my history where people ask where my father was during all of this. I usually answer that my mother and I were wondering the same damn thing. Sometimes I just say my mom had a sperm donor, because truthfully, that's all he was.

And we didn't need him. Mom, Grandma and I got along fine. My mom worked, Grandma napped, and I hung around Juan and Josh, who lived three floors down in our high-rise apartment building.

Juan was only a year older than me, and his mother worked for Josh's parents during the week. Over the summer, Juan came to work with his mother every day, which facilitated our camaraderie.

Josh was three years older than me and got a thrill out of jumping out of corners, doorways and stairwells when I least expected it. He said my whole body turned red and he thought it was funny. In my very matter-of-fact nine-year-old voice I told him that he couldn't know that, because he couldn't see my whole body through my clothes.

From that day forward, he became very interested in finding out if I did, in fact, blush over my entire body.

Two years later he found out that I didn't.

But by the time research revealed that I only blushed down to about my collarbone,

adolescent developments were well underway on other areas of my body, and my budding breasts rapidly captured Josh's attention away from my crimson skin.

Juan was still captivated with throwing water balloons off the balcony when Josh and I began to sneak down to the first floor maintenance room to play peek-a-boo with my tits.

At first, that was the thrill for me: sneaking around. It was like a game of cloak and dagger as Josh and I would outwit the security cameras and adeptly procure a keycard to open the constantly locked door. But then, once we got behind closed doors, Josh stopped looking. And started touching.

"What does that feel like?" he'd ask as he'd swipe the tip of his finger against my barely-there nipples.

"I don't know," I'd answer, not yet able to articulate the feelings of the tremors and tingles.

Since I didn't have much to see, Josh would lose interest quickly, and we'd sneak out in the same fashion we'd entered and rush off to join in on whatever Juan was doing to occupy his time.

On my twelfth birthday, my mother was at a conference in Dubai and my grandmother had the flu. This meant that I had a lot of free, unsupervised time on my hands. Josh showed up to see if I had any cake; at the age of fifteen, his stomach was a bottomless pit.

After polishing off the donut holes that served as my birthday treat, Josh and I didn't bother sneaking off to the janitors' room; we just went to my bedroom.

"So you didn't get _anything_ for your birthday?" he asked incredulously as he flipped through a small stack of CDs that lay on my bookshelf.

"Not yet," I answered. It always annoyed me when people called attention to the way I was shortchanged. I could harp about it all the live-long day, but I didn't want anyone else to highlight it. "My mom will be back this weekend and I'll get my presents then."

"Oh," Josh said. The way he was watching me shifted suddenly. "Your tits are getting big, Bella."

"Shut up," I told him. But I really didn't mind. Every girl in my class had sprouted breasts and we were well aware of how the guys "rated" our varying sizes. It was nice to hear that I was moving up on the growth chart.

"No, I'm serious," Josh said as he walked toward me. "They're nice."

His hands went under my shirt as if they belonged there, and he began to palm and squeeze my breasts.

He also gave me my first kiss that night. It was wet and sloppy and uncoordinated.

I loved it.

Josh came back the next afternoon and he brought a CD from his own collection. He told me that he wanted me to listen to it because it was one of his favorite bands. I told him alright, but knew that we had to be quiet because my grandma was napping.

We sat on the floor of my room listening to the unimpressive music. After about three versus into the first song, Josh turned to me with an empathetic look on his face.

"I feel kind of bad that you didn't do anything special on your birthday," he said.

"It wasn't that bad," I told him.

He moved over to me and kissed me again. "But somebody should make you feel special on your special day."

I shrugged. I was going to say I didn't care, but he was kissing me.

"I want to make you feel special," he lowered his voice. "Can I make you feel special?"

"Okay." Because what else do you say to that?

"Lay on your back," he guided me.

I did what he said, but I had a dress on, so I kept stretching it down over my knees, even though it was only a knee-length dress.

Josh really looked like he knew what he was doing as he rubbed his hands up and down my legs. He kept pushing the skirt of my dress up higher and higher, and finally I just quit fighting him.

He started rubbing me over my underwear. I couldn't stop giggling. And then, just like he'd done when he'd felt me up the first time, he asked, "What does that feel like?"

"I don't know," I answered, embarrassed to be trying to carry on a conversation when his hand was on such a personal area.

"Does it feel good?" he whispered.

"Yeah," I answered; humiliated.

"I can make it feel better." In the next instant, his hands were inside of my underwear and his fingers were on me; rolling and pinching and stroking my skin.

The sensation scared me and I pushed him away and pulled down my skirt.

But the next time we were together, it didn't take long for my body to crave what it had only recently been introduced to.

Soon, we stopped making pretenses about what we would do when we were together. We no longer tried to cover our desires with made up excuses to visit one another's homes. I'd show up at his house, or he'd show up at mine, we'd go straight to the closet in our bedrooms, and start our below the belt explorations.

By this time, Juan's urges had surfaced, and he started accompanying us on our sordid trysts, though he was more interested in seeing me naked than having me get him off. This worked out well, as Josh began to have me touch him, instead of reciprocating for my enjoyment.

Four months before my thirteenth birthday, my mother opened the door of my bedroom closet to find me lying on my back with my legs wide open, Josh's finger inserted as deep as it would go, Juan's hands on my tits and each of my hands wrapped around a teenaged cock.

My mother put in for a job transfer the following week and two months later, we moved to Kirkland so my mother could take a job at Fairfax Hospital.

We only spoke once about "the incident", as my mother liked to call it. She said that it was my way of telling her that she left me alone to often; that I was acting out of sheer need for closeness and companionship from my mother. She promised that things would be different in Kirkland. She wouldn't have to work as many hours and she'd make sure our time together was a priority.

Those mother-daughter date nights lasted all of three months before an article my mother had written for a local medical journal started getting notoriety. Speaking engagements and teaching opportunities started coming out of the woodwork, and though my mother claimed to love merely working with her clients, without all the extra fuss, she was flattered. It didn't take long before that flattery turned into a desire for recognition.

She took one speaking assignment, which turned into another. Next thing I know, she was gone the equivalent of one week out of every month.

But this time, she didn't leave me to my own devices. Swimming, dance, art, soccer, softball…you name it, I was signed up for it.

It was too bad that she'd spent so much time studying in high school and college that she didn't realize that athletes threw the best parties. I met so many people when we lived in Kirkland that my social calendar was filled to the brim. My mother was so blinded by her achievements that she quit questioning the ludicrous cover stories that I threw at her, such as overnight soccer tournaments outside of the normal soccer season.

I lost my virginity, for the first time, in Kirkland. I was fifteen and in the back of an old Chevy Bronco while my friend Lauren was getting finger banged by her boyfriend in the front seat.

The second time I led a boy to believe he'd claimed my virtue, I was almost sixteen. On the rebound from being dumped by the finger-banger, Lauren convinced me to go to a kegger she'd heard about from some college guys down at the rec center.

"You totally look like you're, like, nineteen or something," Lauren expressed after I'd raided my mother's makeup drawer and donned a pair of her heels.

"Cool," I said, the giggle accompanying my words completely negating Lauren's previous statement.

The party turned out to be much larger than either I, or Lauren, had anticipated. This enabled us to get lost in the crowd, and by the time the alcohol was freely flowing, I had already set my sights on getting my kicks for the night.

"Hey," a nice-looking jock-type greeted me as he came and sat next to me on the porch. "The party's inside. What are you doing out here?"

"Just relaxing," I said as I strategically crossed my legs so that my skirt would ride up and show my bare thigh.

"Oh? It's too rowdy in there for ya, eh?" he thumbed back toward the party.

"Not really," I said coquettishly. "I was just trying to unwind a bit. I had a lot of tests this week." I knew almost nothing about college, except that college students were always talking about tests.

"Yeah? Well what do you like to do to unwind?"

I didn't even have to answer with words. I just looked at him and smirked, and before I knew it, I was upstairs in somebody's room with a guy's massive hands in my crotch playing me like a fiddle.

"Mmm…you're so tight…you're so tight…"

"Bella."

"Bella. That's such an awesome name."

I rolled my eyes at his attempt to placate me. I had maneuvered this moment, not the other way around.

He mumbled that his name was Tyler and when I reached into his pants and pulled out the most enormous cock that I'd seen thus far, I didn't give a damn that we were only on a first name basis.

As Lauren and I left the party that night, I overheard him tell his friend that he'd popped my cherry.

Whatever.

I'm sure the fact that I didn't even glance back at him, or ask for his number, deflated his ego just a bit.

By this time, sex had become like a drug to me. And just like with any other addiction, the more I got, the more I wanted.

High school gossip spread like wildfire, and before long I wore an invisible label that had my phone ringing off the hook. My mother was proud, thinking I was the high school "it" girl that was going to be asked to prom by the quarterback.

I'd had the quarterback and he wasn't all that.

I'd also had the president of the chess club, and call him a geek if you want, but that guy could fuck! And he was polite, which didn't hurt.

At first, I told myself that I was alienated because the other girls were jealous. Even Lauren stopped hanging out with me. She said she wasn't going to stand by and watch me self-destruct, but I suspect she was worried that her latest crush had a crush on me.

He didn't.

He just liked the way I said his name when he made me cum.

If Lauren stuck around for me to reason with her, I would have asked her one simple question: Was it my fault that I was willing to do things the other girls weren't? I knew what I wanted and I went for it. I have needs. Sue me.

Ironically, it was me that was able to sue – the school district – after the girls basketball team jumped me in the locker room after P.E. one day; all because Heather Ryan had heard from Jennifer Pierce that I'd slept with Brady Bennett after the Homecoming Dance.

I didn't even _know_ that motherfucker.

After that, my mom pulled me out of that school and filed legal action. Unfortunately, an investigation revealed some of my "extra-curricular activities" in a rather demeaning light and my mother decided we needed a heart-to-heart right then and there, in my guidance counselor's office.

This time it was my father's fault. His absence caused me to seek out intimate relationships with the opposite sex to try and fill that void. However, my fear of being abandoned prevented me from committing to anything beyond physical gratification.

Whatever. What if I just like having sex?

But that's not acceptable to my mother. No, it is imperative that she take the dirty, little societal stain, that in this case is me, and make it socially acceptable.

"A hypersexual disorder. It is something you have, not something you _are."_

Kill me. Now.

My mother is racking up the frequent flyer miles as she moves us, yet again, to get me away from "bad influences". This time, she takes a job part time at a clinic in Port Angeles and another part time position at the hospital in Forks, Washington. The setup actually looked great on a map, but when we actually arrived in Forks to find out how far it really was from Port Angeles, my mother decided to set up an office out of our house.

But not before she secured regular counseling sessions for me in a place that even the devil himself wouldn't visit.

Forks, Washington was a ghost town. No mall. No movie theater. No major university. How was I supposed to meet people? I would have asked my mother this question if I didn't already believe that keeping me isolated from the general public was her exact plan.

Good luck with that. I was a junior that year, and though Forks appeared to have been left back a few generations, they still had a high school.

"Now, Bella," my mother began as she sauntered into my bedroom two nights before I was to start my junior year at Forks High, "I hope you realize the opportunity you have here…in starting over…where no one has made up vicious lies about you or ascribed to you any particular category. It's yours to invent. You can be anyone you want."

It was the third time I'd heard this speech since she'd caught me in the closet with Josh and Juan. And I wanted to ask her why she kept saying I could be anyone I wanted, when I obviously wanted to be that person that got her groove on on a regular basis. Wasn't it obvious that my choice had been made?

I wanted to say that, but I didn't.

Perhaps it was the marginally hopeful look on her face that kept my tongue at bay. Perhaps it was the fact that I had overheard her talking to one of her doctor friends about me, and she was saying that she didn't know what she would do if this move didn't make a difference and that she didn't know how to help me anymore.

Perhaps it was the realization that to my mother, I was the epitome of her failure. Here she was trying to make a name for herself as someone gifted in helping troubled children, and she couldn't even keep her own daughter off her back.

Those were my words, not hers.

She'd say that she couldn't get me to stop encasing my identity or empowerment in my sexuality. Which…why is that a bad thing? I took American history and I happen to know for a fact that that is exactly what we were lauding the bra-burning hippies for doing. I am woman, hear me roar!

But I didn't say any of that either.

I knew my mother couldn't handle the truth. The truth being that I simply enjoyed sex; a lot. I didn't use it to make me feel powerful. I didn't use it to make me feel beautiful. I didn't use it to get the attention of guys who wouldn't look twice at me otherwise.

I wasn't that girl. I knew who I was and where I fell on the looks-ometer. Sure, I wasn't a Betty Bombshell, but I wasn't a Fugly Frieda either. I was just an average looking, brown-haired, brown-eyed girl who liked to get off, plain and simple. I had an urge to satisfy, and that's what I did.

Guys did it all the time. No one ever made them explain why _they_ wanted sex so much. It was just accepted that their libido ruled their conscious minds 99.9% of the time.

And it wasn't like I was as undiscerning with it as most boys my age. I had rules that I lived by and regardless of how badly I needed to get my kicks, I never:

Hooked up with a friend's boyfriend

Had sex with guys I was repulsed by

Let a guy videotape sex

Cheated on my boyfriends

Had sex while drunk (what was the point? I wanted to _feel_ it)

Fucked around with married guys

Fucked around with guys old enough to date my mom

Had unprotected sex; I wanted to live to fuck another day, thankyouverymuch

But again, none of that was anything my mother wanted to know, nor did I want to tell her. We had an open relationship, but not _that_ open.

Still, I felt bad about how defeated she looked, so I agreed to go to counseling and she agreed that if I was able to modify my behavior, she'd buy me a car. She insisted it wasn't a bribe, just a positive reinforcement for more responsible conduct.

She could call it whatever she wanted, but I _really _wanted that car. Therefore, I knew exactly where the Forks juvenile psych outreach program was housed before I knew the location of the nearest Dairy Queen.

After meeting with my counselor, Sheila Rehnquist, on three separate occasions, she gave me the aforementioned quote, and my diagnosis, about having a hypersexual disorder, but not _being_ a hypersexual.

I didn't hold that against her.

Sheila Rehnquist could probably get a pretty high paying job if she worked in the city. She was an awesome counselor, and I liked her immediately. She wore her curly-kinky hair shorn close to her head, and the African-inspired dresses she wore made her look like she was merely passing through on her way to something better.

And she didn't put up with my bullshit at all.

"Life is a much more fulfilling, enriching experience when we learn to do things in moderation, Bella," she told me one day when I adamantly expressed that there was nothing wrong with enjoying sex.

"It's not like eating or getting drunk," I said as I rolled my eyes. "I'm not gonna get fat from having too much sex. In fact, one could argue that I might actually lose a few pounds."

"What if you get pregnant?" Sheila asked.

"What if I step off the curb and get hit by a bus?" I countered. You didn't get to where I was without having defended the pregnancy argument two hundred times too many.

"The odds of that happening are much lower than the odds of you becoming pregnant, or contracting a life-altering illness."

"Sheila," I leaned forward, "level with me. Is there anything really wrong with a girl who has sex on a regular basis? I know about safe sex. I'm on the pill. I use condoms when I'm with guys I don't know that well…"

"Why are you having sex with guys you don't know that well?" Sheila interrupted.

"Because I want to?" I queried, even though we both knew I wasn't really questioning my stance.

"I hear what you're saying, Bella, I do," Sheila nodded at me. She even wore a slight smile on her face. "But what you're trying to convince me of just doesn't fit your situation."

"Which is?" I decided to be humored by this woman who thought she knew me better than I knew myself.

"You want me to believe that you can fulfill your desire for sex without any consequences to anything else in your life."

"I can."

"Is that why you have no female companionship, Bella? Or why, despite your test scores, you're enrolled in low-level courses, which you managed to fail two of last semester."

"Girls are jealous and I don't like school," I shrugged.

"What about your inability to feel anything deeper than a physical pull toward your sexual partners?"

"Guys do it all the time," I scoffed.

"No, they don't; not all guys. And I'm not talking about guys, Bella. I'm talking about you. I'm talking about your inability to be emotionally vulnerable enough with the opposite sex to allow a relationship with your whole person, and not just your body."

"Why would I want that?"

Sheila pointed at me like I'd solved my own crime. "And that's why I'm not convinced, Bella," she said. "Because the correct question is why _wouldn't_ you want that?"

I could tell when Sheila thought we were close to making some sort of breakthrough about something or other, because she'd get out of her chair and dance around the room, gesturing wildly. I liked when she did that because she'd go off on some talking tangent and all I had to do was pretend to listen and hardly speak.

On those days, the hour would fly by.

By Thanksgiving, I had a new Honda Civic and a boyfriend I'd managed to stay interested in for longer than a month. At first, he was almost as horny as I was and we had sex every day, sometimes twice.

Things were going well and my mother even stopped bugging me about how much time Mike and I spent at the house when she wasn't there. I pulled my grades up in my government class and I even managed to pass P.E. for the first time since seventh grade.

But then Mike had to go and ruin it by trying to get me to go out on "group dates" with his friends from the football team. It didn't take long before I resented him and his cronies for wasting the time that could have been spent with Mike's face between my legs instead of sitting around a table of plastic sycophants who giggled and squealed over a bunch of boys who were way more impressed with themselves than they should have been.

And yes, I am well aware that the average high school junior does not refer to the other girls in her class as sycophants, but that word was on my PSATs and I figured it'd be easier to remember some of those words if I started incorporating them into my daily vocabulary.

Right before Christmas, Mike started trying to get me to go to church with his family. I told him only if we could make out in the confessional.

He broke up with me four days later.

I was a little disheartened about the interruption to my normal routine. I had gotten used to being able to count on Mike to "scratch that itch" and when he was gone, the idea of starting all over again only brought half of the thrill it usually did.

My mother mistook this disappointment for a true broken heart, and she was all too thrilled to bust out the ice cream and chick flick movies. And though my mom said the purpose of the movie was to provoke the tears I needed to shed, it only served as a reminder of the fact that I'd probably never feel like those girls on the television. That immediately made me feel better.

Thanks, Mom.

Two months later, Mike had found a new girlfriend and I was accepting applications for my next conquest. After Mike, I wasn't in a rush to jump into another relationship. I just wanted to find a good lay – and that wasn't a simple task when your applicant pool was a high school in Forks.

I told Sheila about the breakup and she thought that breaking up over differing spiritual beliefs showed that I was making progress. I didn't bother to tell her that it was my comment about committing a cardinal sin, inside the church no less, which sealed the relationship's fate. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

By the time spring break arrived, I was going stir crazy with not having any physical attention. I tried taking matters into my own hands, and when that wasn't gratifying, I even ordered a dildo online. That managed to take the edge off, but it wasn't the same. I needed contact. I needed heavy breathing. I needed sultry words.

And I blame that throbbing need for my temporary lack in good judgment.

I'd finished up most of the core work in my classes, so I didn't have any major assignments to work on over spring break, yet I still accepted to attend a "study group" with three members of the varsity baseball team the Friday before my vacation began. It was a poorly concealed grope session at the very least, but as I said, lack of good judgment and all.

The smell of marijuana was so potent in Jeff Knight's basement, where we were supposed to study, that I nearly got a contact high upon entry.

"Hey, Bella," a boy named Kevin said as he sneered at me.

Kevin's father served on the school board, which is the only reason Kevin was still on the baseball team with his 1.7 GPA; further reiteration that there wasn't going to be much studying going on.

We pretended to watch some old movie that was playing in the background, but when Jeff , our high school's prized pitcher, leaned over and put his arm around my shoulders, the rest of the guys moved into position.

"You smell good, Swan," Jeff whispered into my ear. He reminded me of Josh from all those years ago, and I couldn't help but laugh at how this seventeen-year-old guy's pickup line hadn't evolved much from that of a fourteen-year-old's.

The guys thought I was doing that horror-film-bimbo laugh, though, and they started pawing at me with no shame.

Jeff started kissing me and I learned that the things written about him on the walls of the girls' first floor washroom were true. He was a great kisser.

While he had my mouth occupied, Kevin pulled up my shirt and started sucking on my tits. I put my hand in his hair to encourage him to keep it up. That shit felt good.

And then Brian, who had been content up until that point to watch from across the room, walked over and dropped to his knees in front of where I sat on the couch. He put his hands down the front of my jeans and rubbed blindly until Jeff told me to take my pants off.

"Let's see that pussy, Swan," he said.

"Let's see that dick, Jeff," I matched him.

He wasted no time in hopping up on his knees and straddling me on the couch. "You asked for it," he teased. And then he stuck his dick in my mouth like it was something he thought I hadn't experienced before.

I'm sure he changed his mind after about 0.08 seconds. I was a master at giving head.

Kevin, now boobie-blocked, moved down to my pussy. I was happy to feel that he was just fingering me, because with Jeff's mediocre dick in my mouth, I couldn't actually tell him to wrap that shit up if he was gonna fuck me.

I figured Brian had had his fill of rubbing my clit and was only waiting for Jeff to pull out so that he could move in.

I wasn't really a fan of the whole group activity thing, but it had been a long time since I'd felt that good, and even though I refused to swallow anything those boys were offering, culinary or otherwise, we were all pretty satisfied in the end. Even Brian, who hadn't wanted anything past seeing how many of his fingers he could stick up my vag.

It took a full forty-eight hours before the pictures hit Facebook and another twelve before one of the moms from the Parent-Teacher Organization called my mother to give her a "head's up".

I think that was the day that I finally broke my mother, even though that wasn't at all what I was trying to do.

I willingly turned in my car and my cell phone and didn't balk too much at the latest prison sentence that was imposed upon me.

"It's degrading, Bella!" my mother ranted. "That you would let those boys do that to you…and film it!"

Somehow I didn't think it would help matters if I told her I didn't actually know they were taking pictures. So I kept that tidbit about my rules to myself once again.

The school agreed to let me complete the rest of the year via independent study if my mother didn't attempt to implicate the school in a legal battle. Apparently the pictures were taken with a camera that belonged to the school's yearbook department.

"This is a small community," my mother said, still complaining three weeks later. "And next year is your senior year. That's supposed to be your crowning year of school, Bella; and now you'll be starting all over…again."

"I don't have to," I said indifferently. "I didn't do anything wrong. They can't kick me out," I said.

"Bella, you are _not_ going back to Forks High School, and that is that," my mother all but screamed.

Oh yeah. This time, _I_ was the bad influence.

But it wasn't a decision that had to be made right then and there, since I had the entire summer to get through, so I let the issue drop. I focused my attention on finishing up my coursework for the year and staying out of my mother's way whenever I possibly could. It was morbidly humiliating knowing that she'd seen a picture of me giving head.

So when she suggested I increase my counseling sessions to three times a week as part of my "intensive therapy", I was all too happy to get that extra time out of the house.

Sheila didn't freak out about the pictures like my mother had – which was refreshing. She also didn't try to see them.

She did, however, freak _me_ out.

"Bella, your mother has expressed an interest in exploring a more…medical route in regards to your expeditious behavior," Sheila sighed. "And at this point, I can't disagree with her."

"A medical route?" I had seen One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, and that shit ain't happening.

"It is possible to manage your… libido with the aid of medication-"

"I'm not gonna be drugged!" I yelled as I jumped out of my chair. "I've seen what happens to kids who take that stuff. They're like sleepwalkers!"

"That's not true, Bella. You'll still be you, you just won't,"

"Be me," I concluded.

We reached an impasse then, because although Sheila knew she didn't need my permission to suggest treatment, it was also highly unlikely that I'd swallow something I didn't want to take. And seeing as how a teenaged sex addict was a gray area among medical professionals, I probably wasn't a candidate for involuntary committal either.

I noticed how exhausted Sheila looked when she took off her glasses and rubbed at her eyes. I'd started hearing a lot of office information now that my sessions had increased and I was around so frequently. The word on everyone's lips was that the clinic was losing money. Two of the counselors on staff had to move on to a larger clinic in Seattle, which meant that Sheila and one other staffer had had to take over their caseload. I also knew a little bit about this because my mother had offered to take on some of their cases, only she insisted on calling them clients.

But my mother was busy, too, and she wasn't able to offer the kind of services the clinic really needed, which was one-on-one and peer group meetings.

My sessions with Sheila started to suffer a bit. At the beginning of summer, I'd show up only to wait twenty minutes to a half hour while Sheila finished up some of the teen alcohol or substance abuse meetings. By midsummer, she started pulling me into some of these group therapy sessions with girls who suffered from various image disorders. I sat in abysmal boredom as a girl who looked like a walking skeleton admitted that she heard a brownie calling her name the previous night. I wanted to tell her to just eat the damn brownie, but I didn't want to be accused of being insensitive.

In late July, Sheila didn't even bother splitting us up by anything other than gender. I sat in a small circle of pathological liars, kleptomaniacs, self-mutilators and recovering drug and alcohol addicts. I think I was the only "hypersexual", unless the liar was lying. We never labeled ourselves though, just discussed our struggles for the week.

There was a waifish, pale girl with dark hair that spiked every which way in the back and hung down to cover her eyes in the front; I didn't know her name because she put on a different nametag every time she came. She and I were the only ones that never said anything.

The next time I showed up, Sheila eyed me nervously as I entered the room. After a quick glance, I saw that it was because there were three guys present in the room. At least I _think_ it was three guys. There was a set of twins with 1950s crew cuts that looked to be about twelve years old, and a thin and lanky brooder with artificially jet black hair sitting slightly away from everyone else. He kept his head down, and his hair covered his facial features so I couldn't really tell if he was male or female. Regardless, I had standards, and these freaks didn't meet any of them, so Sheila didn't need to fret.

I think she figured that out when she saw that I didn't offer anyone more than a cursory glance.

The next week was a difficult one for me. My mother had another one of her articles published and she was all excited about going to Stanford to speak at a conference, but then I heard her on the phone turning it down because she felt like she couldn't trust me to stay on my own, not even for one day.

The guilt I felt from that was unexpected and it prompted me to do something that shocked even me.

I spoke in the next group session.

I didn't say much. I just said that I felt guilty for what my mother perceived to be a lack of self-control, and how it was limiting her career advancement.

"Your word choices are interesting," Sheila told me. "Your mother perceives you to have a lack of self-control, but you don't agree?"

"I don't agree that I can't make up my mind not to…do certain things," I hedged. "Like, if she had to go out of town this week, it wouldn't be that difficult not to have company over while she was gone or not to go out."

"Did you tell her this?"

I nodded. "Yeah, but she doesn't trust me. Which sucks."

"Do you feel like you've given her ample opportunity to trust you but she just hasn't made the attempt?"

I thought over my answer. I hadn't asked for my car back…but I had driven it without permission one afternoon when she'd had to go to Port Angeles for an appointment. I had also had sex, but I was pretty sure she didn't know about that. Tyler was at the gas station that day I pulled in to get gas and we started talking. He asked me if I wanted to get high, which, in my book, meant we'd be doing some other things as well.

"I don't know," I finally said. Sheila saw through me. I guess I hadn't really given my mother any reason to trust me.

I looked over to find the waifish girl eyeing me with contempt, like I'd broken our unspoken pact of silence.

I also noticed that the dark-haired freak in the corner had shifted his head so that he could see me. His eyes were green…and he had acne on his chin.

Definitely a guy, but definitely not my type.

Now, the blonde, blue-eyed, curly-haired, dimpled sack of man-meat that joined our group at the beginning of August was definitely my type. When I looked over and saw that the nervous expression on Sheila's face had returned, I couldn't help but agree that it was rightfully present.

I didn't even have a chance to find out what his name was. Sheila didn't give him a nametag and she hung on every word he said and cut him off often.

He was an over-sharer.

Despite Sheila's blocking maneuvers, I was able to determine that he went to school somewhere in the local area, and he was still in high school, because he spoke of starting his senior year and being recruited by a university if he played well in the fall. He didn't say what he played, though, and I had every intention of asking him once the session dismissed, but Sheila had waylaid me until my mother showed up to claim me.

"What the hell is this?" my mother asked as she waved at the quickly disbanding group before her.

"This," Sheila mocked her gesture, "is what cutbacks and staff vacations look like," she explained. "I've been running on a skeleton crew all summer, Renee."

"Sheila, you know the _issues,_" my mother whispered the last word as if I couldn't figure out she was talking about me. "I mean, co-ed? Really?"

"Well what am I supposed to do? The grant clearly stipulates the number of sessions I'm to provide in the summer. It's not like I can give the money back for non-compliance. And one of these kids' dads is on the Board at the hospital. He'll know if I cancel," Sheila pled her case.

"I am sure there are provisions in the contract for that," Mom argued. "Because this is unacceptable. These kids should not be mixed like this. It's dangerous."

"Renee, I'm right here. What's going to happen?"

I didn't hear my mother's response to that. I was too busy trying to crane my neck to see which way curly, blonde-haired, blue-eyes had gone.

So basically, that is the summation of how I came to find myself held hostage in my mother's office while she tracked down the grantor for the clinic's funding. I'm kind of miffed that my mom might get Sheila in trouble, but I know that she feels that if she's going to sacrifice a speaking engagement in Stanford, then Sheila can stand to make a few sacrifices to prevent me from being introduced to fuck-hot guys who might want to know if I honestly come by my reputation.

Those are my words, not hers.

"No, no! You are not going to put me on hold again!" My mother hissed as she rose from her seat. "Damnit, you listen to me!" She walked out of the room as if she had to protect my delicate ears from her swear words.

Please.

"Mom, I'm not gonna sit here all day," I called, as if she was paying me any attention. I draped my now scuff-free sneaker across the top of her desk and accidently kicked over a bottle of water that was sitting there.

"Shit!" I squeaked as I quickly jumped up. My mother's desk was covered with manila file folders, and I knew the consequences if I wrecked any of them.

I swiftly righted the topsy-turvy bottle and pulled out a handful of Kleenex to mop up the spill, which didn't end up being that disastrous. As I soaked up the water, I noticed that the top two files on my mother's desk referenced the Forks Juvenile Psych Project. There was a picture peeking out of one of the folders, so I quickly pulled it out for further inspection.

It was the pale, waifish girl from my group. I opened her folder to assign a name to her instead of 'pale waif girl'.

Alice Brandon. Actually, it was Mary Alice, but Alice was written with quotation marks around it, denoting that she preferred to be addressed that way.

And then the light bulb went on.

"C'mon, blue eyes," I muttered to myself as I quickly shuffled through the folders. "Are you in here?"

"…and I'm not suggesting you free them from the confines of their requirements. I'm just saying that at the time that grant was given, it was to supplement state funds, and now those funds have been cut."

My mother's voice was much closer to the office than I anticipated, and I hastily stacked the folders together and raced to sit back down in my previous seat.

"Well that is a load of bullshit, and you know it!" She was moving away again.

With as much grace and speed as I could again manage, I leaned over my mother's desk and picked up the eight files that were color-coded with the marking for Forks.

My fingers were shaking as I worked feverishly against the sound of my mother's voice rising and falling in the background. I was working so fast that I managed to pick up two files at the same time.

A stray photo fell onto the desk.

"It's him!" I squealed. Blue-eyes himself was staring up at me. "What's his name, what's his name?" I rushed, knowing my time was limited. I looked at the two files I was holding trying to determine which one belonged to the lovely blue eyes.

Carey Fitch or Edward Cullen.

Carey is a girl's name.

"Edward Cullen," I sighed. It had kind of a nice ring to it. But with dimples like that, his name could have been Sue and I wouldn't have cared.

"Yeah, okay, Ben…Yeah. I know. As it is, I don't even have time to go through the files that I got from Sheila. If you guys are able to bring on an additional counselor…Yeah…Well great…" My mother's call was winding down, and I could hear her headed my way.

At record speed, I tried to read as much detail on Edward as I could find.

Birth date: June 20, 1993. _Hmm…we're almost the same age._

I scanned over the vitals… this said he had auburn hair. _Sometimes red hair lightens to blonde, doesn't it?_

I didn't have time to look over his eye color and such. I wanted to know if he was local.

"Here we go…" I opened a folder marked 'transcripts'.

Lincoln High School in Port Angeles, WA.

_Hmm…_

And if that little tidbit of information didn't cause a plan to formulate, the scribbling of a doctor's hand on a Clallam County Court document did.

"_Sexual deviant…excessive hypersexual disorder…"_

And suddenly my mother's ranting and raving was kicked into context. I had been sitting in the same room with my perfect match and I hadn't even known it.

"Bella."

I wonder if my mother knew she was giving me a warning call as she walked back to her office.

"Bella, honey, sorry about that. I didn't mean to make you sit here while I dealt with that, but I just had to get that sorted out." She sat back down behind her desk and shoved aside the folders I had been going though only moments before. "Anyway, I hope you don't mind that Sheila told me that you shared in group today. She didn't tell me what you said," my mom quickly admitted. "But I just wanted to tell you that I appreciate the effort you've been putting forth."

"Um…okay," I stammered. Bring on the guilt. "So, um…Mom. I've been thinking about what you said, about me not going to Forks my senior year."

"Yeah?" my mom broached. She looked like she was well out of steam for another argument on that subject.

"I think I agree with you. I've been doing some research on the topic, and I think I might want to try Lincoln High in Port Angeles. What do you think?"

My mom stared at me for so long without saying anything that I was sure she was on to me. She'd probably already memorized Edward's case file and knew that I had figured out who he was.

But then a large smile erupted onto her face right before she launched herself across the desk and pulled me into a hug.

"I think that's a great idea!" she cried as she hugged me. "Oh Bella, this time it's going to be different. You just wait and see."

_That is the plan, Mother. That is the plan._


	2. Chapter 2

With my mother on board for this move to Lincoln High, I knew I had to lay low for awhile or she'd figure something out. She wasn't a dim person, just distracted, and sometimes when I'd least expect it, she'd pick up on a tone or expression and figure me out. I couldn't let that happen. Not when I had just two weeks left until the first day of school.

I'd managed to get past Sheila, who didn't bat an eyelash at the school I'd chosen to attend. She'd echoed my mother's pep talk about a chance for a fresh start and then launched into an infomercial about the positive benefits of behavior modifying medicine. I don't remember much after that. I tuned out.

But when my mother and I had taken our road trip to Lincoln High to enroll me for the fall, I'd definitely been fully alert and aware for that visit. There'd been a few students milling around the campus and, I have to admit, I wasn't that impressed. The school was small with a lot of mismatched outbuildings and I had to chant the name Edward Cullen about five times to myself before I could drum up enough enthusiasm to remind myself that this had been my idea.

"Ooh, Bella," my mother was browsing the course list. "They have a Physics class. You've always been really good in science."

I almost laughed when the registrar behind the counter tried to take an inconspicuous glance at the most recent report card my mother had just given her.

Yeah, I'd gotten a 'D' in Chemistry the first semester and had dropped it to take an art class that I rarely attended; still managed to get a 'B+' though. Go figure.

"Well…you can always test into that class," the registrar hinted. "Once your guidance counselor has your scores he or she will be able to move you into different classes."

My mother seemed pleased with that information. I was too busy trying to sneak a look at the student schedules that the registrar had just set on the counter. The long box was crammed full of the little four-by-six inch cards, but from where I stood, I could tell they were in alphabetical order.

_Cullen would be closer to the D's…_

The registrar caught me eyeing the schedules and shifted the box slightly as she came to stand in front of me. "You won't have one of these until we get your cumulative record from Forks. You can just check in with me on the first day of school and we'll get you where you need to go."

I nodded and looked over at my mother, trying to silently will her to do that thing where she'd show off her intelligence by asking a question that required people to go look up the answer.

Good ole Mom. It didn't take long before she came through for me. And they weren't necessarily intelligent questions – they were just never ending. I think the poor lady had to go to the back just to give her tongue a rest since it didn't look like my mother had any interest in resting hers.

"I wonder what kind of classes the other seniors are taking…" I nonchalantly wondered out loud as I began fingering through the index cards. Cullen was easy enough to find, and it was nice to have the confirmation that he really was returning to Lincoln for his senior year.

I had to do a double-take at the classes I saw listed on Edward's schedule: Calculus. Huh. Cullen had struck me as more of an auto shop, weightlifting kind of guy, not this nerd world that I was seeing listed before me. I mean, for goodness sake, the guy was taking Latin. _Latin!_ What the hell is this?

"They teach Latin here?" I mumbled when the registrar ambled back toward the counter.

"We do offer Latin as part of a collegiate preparatory track to advanced science studies."

_Advanced science studies? What the hell does that even mean?_

"Bella, that sounds like something you'd be interested in," my mother said, grinning like a loan shark on payday.

_Yes, Mom. Because clearly the near-failing grade in Chemistry was not enough of a tipoff as to how gifted I am in the field of science._

I left Lincoln High feeling a little concerned about this Cullen kid, who was not shaping up to be like anything I'd expected. I spent the entire ride home concocting scenarios that meshed who I thought he was with who he appeared to be on paper. Maybe he was so good in the sack that he had all these nerdy girls sucking his dick and writing his essays on the side. Yeah. That _had_ to be it.

Well I wasn't about to be a side dish, so he was going to have to find another way to stay on his college prep track if we ever hooked up. I mean, when. _When_ we hooked up. Because Latin or no Latin, that was one fine specimen of man meat - one I'd even overlook the Calculus over.

I planned to busy myself with shopping for clothes and school supplies during the two weeks before school started, but my mother stepped in and fogged up my brain with something else entirely. She started complaining about the amount of money I'd be spending in gas driving my car back and forth from Port Angeles each day. I reminded her that we lived halfway between her job in Forks and Port Angeles, but unfortunately I didn't think my argument all the way through and she reminded me that she earns a paycheck and I do not.

"You're the one who wanted me to switch schools!" I yelled. No way was she turning this back around on me.

"You didn't have to pick one so far away," my mother quipped. Something about the way she was debating with me was odd. She knew she was pushing my buttons, but she wasn't fully engaged – like she was trying to get me to argue myself into her line of thinking.

Something was very fishy here. And it wasn't me.

"So, what? You want me to pick another school then? Or go back to Forks?" I bluffed.

"Well, no." Mom sat up straight and turned her back to me as she pretended to get something out of a file cabinet behind her. I knew she was pretending because her fingers just kept brushing over the tops of the folders; she wasn't actually looking at any of them. "But your allowance isn't going to get you very far if you have to pay for gas, too."

"So then give me gas money," I told her. This isn't rocket science. She gives me lunch money outside of my allowance.

"See, this is what I don't like," she turned and pointed her finger at me. "This attitude of entitlement. You think money just grows on trees."

"Mom, where's this coming from?" I tried to get her to level with me. "Are we out of money or something?"

"No, _we_ aren't out of money. As far as I know _you_ haven't done anything to contribute to this household monetarily at all."

I narrowed my eyes at my mother like I was trying to see into her brain. Because seriously, I totally could use a mindreading cap at the moment. This bitch was whacked!

She'd always told me that it was my job to go to school and that work would be there when I finished. So why now, is she complaining to me about not contributing to the household?

"You want me to get a job?" I asked her point blank.

"I want you to be responsible, Bella."

"And how, exactly, am I supposed to take all those hard science classes, see Sheila, stay caught up in all my other classes and do the sixty-bajillion sports and activities you've signed me up for while holding down a job?"

Finally, my mother turned to face me and I could see that I was walking straight into her evil little plan.

"You can't," she said simply.

"So you want me to track down Dad and ask him for seventeen years worth of back child support?"

My mother actually snorted at that statement.

"No," she paused. "I want you to realize the investment I make in this situation as well. Obviously, you can't ride the bus, so you'll have to drive. And the more you drive, the more miles you put on the car, the more wear and tear – the less valuable the car is in the event that I have to sell it."

"And why would you need to sell my car?"

"If you prove that you're not responsible enough to maintain it then I'll be forced to get rid of it. What use do I have for another car?"

"Mom, can we just get to the point here? I'm getting a headache."

"Fine." She whipped a form out of her desk drawer, and damn if it didn't look like an official contract. "You and I are going to set a few rules."

"Ooh, my favorite! Rules!" I sat down with an overenthusiastic flourish. Mom didn't like that too much, but she only gave me a stern stare instead of a word or two.

"I want you to do better this year, Bella. I want you to try harder. I want you to consider an occupation after high school – preferably one that requires a college degree – and I want you to keep that in mind as you study this year. I love that you picked a high school with a college prep program."

"Mom, I can't go to college right after high school. My grades aren't good enough."

"You can go to a two-year college and then transfer to a university, Bella. And if you buckle down and take the courses I know you're capable of taking, you won't have to bother paying to take them at a junior college."

I gestured toward the contract. I knew that thing had to fit in somewhere, and I just wanted to hear what it was before I shot this down quicker than a hit of Malibu rum.

"Is that what this is about? We're bargaining for grades or something?" Bella asked.

"This," Mom pointed to the sheet of paper, "is more about what I expect from you and what you can expect from me…"

_Ah, this sounded more like the manipulative bullshit she came home from work with…_

"…I will pay for your gas to and from school, Bella, as long as you maintain a 2.9 grade point average each quarter."

"Two point nine?" I almost choked. "That's _high_!"

"It's not high, and I'm being conservative. I know you can do even better than that, but this is about you succeeding, so I'm giving you a goal you should have no problem attaining if you put forth a bit of effort."

"Well what happens if I can't do it?"

"Then you'll need to pay for your own gas to and from school. I mean it, Bella. You need to understand the hardship there is on me to pull you in and out of school all the time. I need some assurances that you're vested here."

"So I have to use my allowance to pay for gas? Gas is expensive!"

"Then failing your classes and getting anything less than a 2.9 isn't an option, is it?"

Okay, now she was starting to scare me. Was she actually serious?

"Mom, I'm not like you, okay? I'm not that person who argues with the teacher and makes him turn my A- into an A. I'm the person who asks the teacher to turn my F into a D-."

"Well you can't be that person anymore, can you?" and then she walked out.

My mother likes to make these grand exits, like some reality show camera team is filming her at all times and someday someone is going to watch this moment and applaud her wit and tactics.

Maybe that'll be the day she realizes I flipped her off behind her back.

With both hands.

Apparently, my silently telling my mother to fuck off, and her threatening to make me pay my own way was enough to satisfy us both on the issue, because it didn't come up again for the rest of the summer. And neither did talk of me taking medication. Sheila seemed as optimistic as my mother that Lincoln High school would be my turning point. Either that, or they were just hoping and praying that I could make it through ten months without fucking the entire water polo team.

Psssh. Lincoln didn't even _have_ a water polo team. And anyway, I wasn't focused on that – not when I had Edward Cullen to look forward to. He was getting better looking with each and every thought. Those piercing blue eyes; curly, finger-tangled locks; and those lips…

Experience had taught me that I couldn't just walk on the campus and start inquiring about Edward. A guy that hot most likely had a hoard, if not legion, of admirers. And I wasn't deluded enough not to consider the fact that he probably also had a girlfriend. I'd have to make sure to lay low long enough to assess the situation.

So that is exactly what I did.

The first day of school was confusing enough to occupy my thoughts. I went to the office and got my schedule, just like I'd been instructed to. I was horrified to see that my list of status quo classes had been replaced by Algebra II and…

"Physics?" I asked as I tapped the counter. "I think there's been some mistake. I can't take Physics."

The school secretary didn't even bother to address me. She just pointed behind her toward the counseling office. I grabbed my backpack and my now wrinkled class schedule and headed toward the first person I saw.

"I've been put into the wrong class," I stated demandingly. Somebody needed to fix this shit, and soon. My car and gas depended upon it.

"Bella Swan." There was a tall, gangly man with glasses standing next to a large wooden shelf of cubby holes. He looked over at me as if he were introducing me to myself. "Is this about Physics?"

"Uh, yeah." Good. He'd obviously seen my records and knew I didn't belong in that class.

At least that's what I thought. But then he walked up to me and stuck his hand out like he actually expected me to touch him. "I'm your guidance counselor, Brian Rinker. The school requires you to call me Mr. Rinker." He smiled. I think he was trying to make a joke. "Over the summer, I had the opportunity to speak with your counselor at your last school…"

I interrupted him with a groan. Mrs. Jacobs, or Mrs. Jackoff, as everyone lovingly referred to her, had had it in for me from the very first time she'd walked in on me and Mike making out in the Teacher's Lounge. I mean, who knew that teachers actually used that room _during_ class time. Weren't they supposed to be teaching?

"She actually had some very nice things to say about you," Mr. Rinker said, mistaking my groan for actually giving a damn about what that old hag thought of me. All I cared about was that it appeared that she still was making an effort to make my life a living hell, even though I'd switched schools and districts.

"After speaking with her, and looking at your test scores, I'm inclined to agree that you were not being challenged in your previous courses, and therefore you underperformed. I've placed you in Physics on a probationary status just to test this theory. If after one quarter you can't keep up, we'll move you to a lower science. And since it's your first class of the day, we can easily shift you into something else without upsetting the rest of your schedule."

But not before ruining my GPA and rendering me to the land of the blue-collared workforce. Thanks a lot Mr. Wanker.

I trudged off to my first class and took the first empty seat I saw since the class had already started and I didn't want to prolong my ungraceful entry any longer than necessary. Unfortunately, that empty seat was right at the front of the class. I made sure not to make eye contact with the teacher so that he wouldn't call on me. I don't know how I've made it to my senior year, without having yet learned the lesson that trying to avoid looking at a teacher almost guarantees that they're going to call on you.

"Isabella? Swan?"

"Bella," I nodded. First one's a freebie. Call me Isabella again and I'll act like you're calling to a Fred in the back row.

The teacher looked at me like he couldn't care less what my name was. According to the dry erase board at the front of the room, his name was Mr. Hearn. According to the expression on his face, that was all that mattered.

While everyone was settling in, I stole a glance around the classroom. I didn't see The Beautiful, aka Edward. In fact, I didn't see _any _good looking guys. There were a few girls that looked like they were competing in the Miss Dowdy America contest, and a few guys that could tote that sash as well. A couple of the guys looked like they belonged in the middle school down the road, and there was a lump of black hair and clothing slouched down in the far right corner. Judging by the long legs capped off by a pair of worn-in Doc Martens, it was a guy.

There was no way I was going to make it an entire quarter in this class.

The rest of the day – scratch that – the rest of the _week_ was about the same. I'd made it through all of my classes to find that if Edward Cullen even did exist, he was either on an extended vacation, was the most unpopular boy at school, or had all remedial classes in the outbuildings that lined the campus. I didn't see him once and I didn't hear even a whisper of his name.

I did, however, see the waif, or Alice, as she likes to be called. She's actually in one of my classes. She looked like she recognized me immediately, but before I could smile or raise my hand in a friendly gesture, she looked away and didn't search me out again. So her stance on the idea of becoming friends was obviously clear. When I saw her again near the lockers, I didn't bother heading in her direction.

Not that I could. There was a wall of hair and synthetic fiber blocking my path.

"Um…hi!" This girl's greeting was punctuated by giggles from a minion of fem-bots that stood behind her. "I'm Jessica and these are my friends," she waved toward the girls behind her.

I raised my eyebrow to her introduction, as if the girls didn't even warrant their own title. Who was this Jessica, and why did it mean anything to be her _friend?_

"So, you're new here, right?" Jessica was still rambling. "Isabell?"

"Bella," I nodded, not sure if I wanted to converse with this crowd. But judging from their appearance, they were probably Lincoln High elite – not that that's saying much.

"See?" Jessica turned toward one of the girls in an I-told-you-so fashion. "I could totally tell you didn't go here last year."

"What gave me away: The desperate way I'm clutching the map of the school or the tight-knit party of one at lunch?" I asked sarcastically.

Jessica looked confused for a minute as she tried to decipher what I'd said. "Actually, it's your clothes."

I looked down immediately. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

"Nothing! Nothing!" Jessica jumped in immediately. "They're totally cute. I just meant that if you'd gone here last year, and you dressed this cute, we totally would have known you then. I have a total weakness for fashion and I would have been pestering you about where you got your top, or your jeans…"

_Was this girl seriously still talking?_ It was impossible that she didn't know how idiotic she sounded. But at any rate, like I mentioned before, they did look like they belonged to the A-crowd, so if anyone had any information on Edward Cullen, it would probably be one of them. And I wasn't getting anywhere on my own, so…

"Does anyone have history with Vorna next?"

"I do!" a short girl with overly bouncy blonde hair piped up. But even though she was the only one who said anything, then entire crowd followed us toward the class.

"So…" I began, trying to sound as casual as possible. "Where are the cute guys hiding around this place?"

"Tell me about it!" Jessica rolled her eyes so hard I thought she was going to strain an optical nerve. "There are no cute guys here at all! They all keep moving away!"

"Hey! Chad is so cute!" A girl with two French braids and a huge overbite said.

"Oh, sorry Bex," then Jessica explained to me. "Chad is Bex's boyfriend. They've been together since fourth grade or some crazy shit like that."

"So there are no cute _single_ guys here?" I rephrased my question.

Bouncy blonde girl spoke up. "It depends on what you like. If you're looking for the Justin Timberlake's or Zac Efron's then, no, there are no cute guys here. But if you like…say…Michael Cera…"

"Jason Tate, right?" Jessica interjected with a squeal. "He totally looks like Michael Cera!"

"I think he is _so_ cute," bouncy blonde admitted.

And then they all started to do that thing where they, friendly but firmly, let me know whom they were interested in so that I could read between the lines of the imaginary girl code and know to stay away. Whatever. No one mentioned Edward Cullen.

"So, I met this guy over the summer that said he went here. He was beyond good looking." Cute just didn't apply. "He was kind of a jock; blonde hair, blue eyes, huge dimples…got any of those?"

The crowd of girls stopped walking and looked over at one another, puzzled.

"He said he went here?" Jessica asked. "And he didn't tell you his name?"

"I thought he said his name was Edward Cullen," I answered. I carefully looked at each girl to gauge her reaction. There wasn't much of any. _Huh._

"That name sounds familiar…" one finally said slowly.

Another girl nodded in agreement.

But then Jessica started snorting in laughter. "Okay, that is _so_ not the description of Edward Cullen."

"You know him?" I couldn't help it, I sounded eager. I had been thinking about this guy all summer. And finally…

"I don't _know_ him, but I know who he is. Anyway, he doesn't at all fit your description. He's not a jock, he doesn't have blonde hair and he most definitely is _not_ cute," Jessica said.

"Maybe he changed over the summer? Got a new look?" bouncy blonde suggested optimistically. She looked over at me with a smile.

"He's in my English class," Jessica said, dashing all hopes to pieces. "He still looks the same. He wears all black, his hair is black and if I had to guess, I'd say –"

"Oooh! I know who you're talking about!" An African American girl with really shiny black hair spoke up. "Yeah…he's not cute…At least I don't think he is…I've never actually seen his face. He has all that hair in his face all the time."

"Is that him?"

The entire crowd turned to look at a lone figure schlepping along the backside of the library.

"_That's_ Edward Cullen?" I asked, dumbfounded.

He was very tall and lean, and he seemed to hunch forward like he was trying to exist only in the shadow of his form. Aside from the thin sliver of his jaw and hands, he was black from head to toe. Artificially darkened hair hung down like a dripping halo around his head, obscuring his eyes.

"Didn't you have Chem 1A with him last year, Debbie?" Jessica turned to one of the friends.

"Yeah," Debbie shivered as if she were scared. "He never really said anything, but he used to mumble shit all the time. I'm pretty sure he worships the devil and drinks blood and stuff."

"I've heard that, too," another friend corroborated.

"And he's really mean," Jessica added. "Like, don't ever ask to borrow a pen or paper in class," she huffed. "He'll make you feel really stupid for asking and then he doesn't give it to you," she said as if she was speaking from personal experience.

The group of friends saw someone else across the campus wearing palazzo pants that were "so three years ago" and they moved on to taunting and teasing while I continued to stare at my collapsing fantasy and obliterated hope. It was the wrong Edward!

Wrong Edward had turned and changed course unexpectedly, and in a matter of footsteps, our paths would cross.

Suddenly, I was angry. I was angry at the effort I'd expended. I was angry at how stupid I looked asking after this _freak._ I was angry that I was not stuck at this backwards place for my last year of high school without a prospect in sight. But mostly I was angry at the fact that all of the plotting and planning and yearning for the Edward Cullen of my dreams had somehow distracted me and I hadn't had sex in almost three months!

As if he could feel the intense hatred rolling off me, Wrong Edward looked over at me fleetingly as he passed. When he saw my looking, he turned his head quickly and shook the curtain of hair back into place.

"He looks like he stinks," I muttered.

Jessica & Co. had moved on, confident in the fact that I hadn't arrived to infringe on their little po-dunk crushes.

And so there I stood, at the conclusion of my first week at Lincoln High, in much the same condition I'd arrived in: lost, looking and lonely.


	3. Chapter 3

I don't care what anybody says. Physics is fuckin' hard. Seriously, electromagnetic induction? Quantum theory? Who would consider teaching this shit to high school students? And to add insult to injury, my dear mother, who just _had_ to enroll me in this class, never took Physics a day in her life. For the life of me I can't understand why she thinks it's so easy.

"You just need to apply yourself, Bella," she told me. And then she had the audacity to remind me about our deal. "Just be sure you don't let your grades drop."

What-the-hell-ever. I'm not spending more than one hour on homework. I mean, who do these people think they are? They've got me all day in class and then they want me to come home and spend the remainder of my day learning what they didn't do a good job of teaching me in the first place? Yeah, right.

That attitude accompanied me to my Physics class the next morning where I learned that my teacher was, in fact, sadistic. Seriously, it was the second day of school, and this motherfucker gave a pop quiz. What the hell was I supposed to learn by the second day of class besides the color of the outside cover of my textbook?

Apparently, there were ten questions worth of things I was supposed to learn. And it appeared as though I was the only one who didn't know them. I glanced around the classroom and everyone was busily circling and writing in answers like they'd seen the answer key.

Everyone except Edward Cullen.

As soon as I saw his lackluster black hair, I felt a surge of anger well up inside of me. Why did _he_ have to be Edward Cullen? Why did a picture of The Beautiful One have to fall into the file of the Son of Satan?

Though I wasn't quite convinced that Debbie the Dumb (I dubbed her that because she's in my art class, and man oh man is she dumb) knew what she was talking about in regards to the Satan thing, I had to admit that Edward _did_ look the part.

It was while I was inventorying his crypt-chic style that I noticed he was looking at me. And then I noticed that he was sneering at me.

I sneered right back. _Motherfucker. It's your fuckin' fault that I'm stuck in this hell-hole._

With one 'F' under my belt for the day, I was determined not to get another. I went into my English class and shuffled into a more comfortable row than the one I'd sat in the day before. I was just about settled in when the teacher came in and told us that she'd be seating us in alphabetical order by our first names.

I saw the gothic waif princess to the left of me, and I went over and took a seat in front of her, figuring that I probably wouldn't have to move much from that spot.

"Um, excuse me, but unless your name starts with a silent 'A', you're behind me," spat the G.W.P.

Her voice totally didn't match her appearance and it shocked me for a moment. I turned around to look at her, wondering if this was some sort of riddle or something.

"Last time I checked, 'I' came before 'M'," I told her flippantly.

"Well, that's nice. I'm glad that you earned your kindergarten diploma, but my name, Alice, starts with an A, and I'm sure you remember that that is the first letter in the alphabet."

I frowned for two reasons. First, "Alice" had chosen not to sit in the first row or first seat, but in the second seat in the second row. And second…

"Isn't your name _Mary_?" I questioned.

The hardened expression on her face slipped and Mary/Alice looked frantically around the classroom before facing me again. This time, when she looked at me, there was recognition on her face.

"Nobody and I mean _nobody_ calls me that," she reiterated. "How'd you even know that anyway?"

I shrugged. There was no way I was going to let on that I'd been snooping in my mother's files. Not only could I get in trouble for that, but so could she.

"I think I saw it on the class schedules list when I was registering," I lied. Luckily Alice bought it.

"Look, I know, ya know, that we've seen each other before and all that. But we don't talk about that here," Alice whispered.

"We?" I wondered out loud.

"There's a few of us…you, me, Edward. Michael used to go here, but he transferred out," Alice explained. "Anyway, we see each other at the center in Forks over the summer, but when school starts…it's off the table. Got it?"

I didn't have time to add my term of understanding before the teacher started ushering people about the room. By some luck of the draw, I was categorized as Bella instead of Isabella and I ended up sitting directly behind Alice. We simply shifted up and over one row and took our seats.

Alice was quiet the entire class and by the time the bell rang, I'd figured that her speech extended beyond not talking about the group therapy sessions in Forks, to include not talking at all.

So I was taken by surprise when she fell into step beside me on the way to my third class of the day.

"You look like you hate it here," she stated flatly.

"What gave me away?" I asked. "The constant scowl on my face, the desecration of all things bearing the school mascot or my no-can-do attitude?"

Alice barely cracked a smile. "Probably the scowl," she answered seriously after a moment.

I looked down at her then (she was extremely short) to see if she was so socially retarded that she didn't know when someone was sarcastically asking a rhetorical question. That's when I noticed her smirk.

We didn't talk much on the way to our lockers, and when we parted, there was no BFF moment of a finger-wiggling wave or promise to meet up at lunch. Yet when the noon hour arrived, there was Alice heading straight for the table I was perched upon.

"You're gonna get your ass kicked if you sit here," she stated simply. "Come on. Follow me."

Getting beat up was not a favorite pastime of mine, so I picked up the tattered lunch bag I'd been carrying and followed her to a spot across from the auto shop wing and took a seat on the grass.

I don't know who Alice thought she was fooling, but there was no way this out-of-the-way-smack-dab-in-the-middle-of-nowhere spot was arbitrary. But I decided it would be much more entertaining to follow along with her charade than ask her about it outright.

"So what other classes do you have?" I asked her.

Alice finished chewing before pointing a finger tipped with chipped black nail polish at me. "One of the things I thought I liked about you was that you didn't feel the need to succumb to idle chatter. Was I wrong?"

"No, you weren't wrong," I told her as I flicked a piece of lettuce off the back of my hand. "So, what other classes do you have?"

Alice rolled her eyes at me, but rattled off a list of classes anyway.

"Shit!" I groaned. "Am I the only dumbass in this school that took Physics, besides the brainiacs in my class?"

"Just drop it," Alice shrugged.

"I tried. Some wanker in the office is making me stay in there long enough to lower my GPA, which means my mother will stop paying for my gas and I'll have to get a job," I explained.

"Sucks to be you," Alice said with disinterest. I didn't blame her; who wants to listen to someone complaining about hard classes?

Alice got her wish as I stopped conversing and started watching the few kids who were milling around the area beside us. One girl was shamelessly flirting with a guy who clearly wasn't interested in her. From the way she was relentlessly lingering despite his rebuffs, it was obvious that they'd hooked up a time or two.

"What are you looking at?"

I looked over at Alice suspiciously. It wasn't her question that piqued my attention; it was her tone of voice. She sounded defensive and accusatory and…nervous?

I hadn't actually been looking at anything in particular when Alice questioned me, but I had been gazing in the general vicinity of a group of students that had just emerged from one of the temporary buildings across from us.

"Just looking," I said cryptically as my eyes took in the three girls and two boys that were standing around outside the building. They were dressed like a representative of Teen Disney was going to stop by at any second and cast them as the way-too-old-to-play-a-kid star of their next sitcom.

I was just growing bored of the way the girls kept tossing their hair around when I noticed one of the guys glance our way with a forced nonchalance. Twice.

I am the _queen _of the fake casual look. It is a mandatory skill when you've just climbed off someone else's boyfriend, or when you're trying to inconspicuously coordinate the next time you're going to climb on.

"So, what's his name?" I asked.

"Who? What? Why are you asking me that?" Alice questioned.

I just smiled and nodded toward the next Mickey Mouse Club. "That guy over there who's trying to pretend that he's not looking over here."

"Nobody's looking over here," Alice denied quickly.

I looked back at Sir Preppy and counted three more glances in our direction in a matter of four seconds.

"Would you quit looking," Alice ordered in irritation.

"Why? He's kind of cute," I told her. "If you like the junior-yacht-club type."

Alice wrinkled her face in disdain. "Junior yacht club? Seriously, where do you come up with this shit?"

I shrugged and took another bite of my sandwich.

"So," she began slowly. "What's your story? Got a boyfriend? Girlfriend? One of each?"

I smiled to myself. _Alice felt threatened. _She obviously liked that guy over there, even though their actions and appearances screamed of a plot from a low budget 80's film.

"What's his name?" I asked. It was my nonchalant way of telling her that she was being extremely obvious.

I have to hand it to Alice. She had a pretty good poker face. But I could tell it was only because she knew I was on to her.

"I make it a point _not_ to find out the names of every person who attends this school," she said glibly.

"Hmm," I said thoughtfully as I eyed the Ralph Lauren model. "He looks familiar. I wonder if he has Physics."

"He doesn't," she said before she realized what she was admitting to. She grimaced at her own slip-up. "Why don't you just ask someone in your class?" she asked sourly. "That seems like a no-brainer."

"Yeah, see, I'm convinced that first period Physics is reserved for the slightly unsuspecting, such as myself, social pariahs and then there's the devil spawn." When Alice looked quizzically at me, like she needed a clue, I elaborated. "Edward Cullen is in that class."

Alice did something then that I didn't think she was possible of doing. She laughed out loud. A toss-your-head-back-open-your-mouth-wide laugh.

"I see you've talked to him," she said when her chuckles began to subside.

"Like I'd give him that pleasure," I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, well then don't bother. He will _not_ help you. With anything."

I hated to admit it, but the way everyone spoke about and tip-toed around Edward kind of had me intrigued. What was so attention-worthy about him? I mean, he _did _look like a serial-killer. I guess if I was constantly in the presence of some sociopath, I'd want to be mindful of him, too.

I was still thinking about the appeal, twisted though it was, that Edward had to most people when I walked into my history class and came face to face with the death-monger. He was moving toward the row I was headed for, and I backed up to allow him entry while I ducked over to the next row. I almost laughed out loud when I looked over and saw that he seemed to have a border of empty desks around him, like he repelled people and they had to be at least one chair away from him.

It was kind of sad, actually. From what I'd seen, he hadn't actually done or said anything to live up to the rumors I'd heard about him. Okay, he _had_ looked at me like he was going to sacrifice me to a demon or something, but maybe that was a result of how badly he was treated here.

I decided not to take heed of all the empty desks around him as I rolled my eyes at these easily-freaked out country bumpkins and took a seat at the back of the room – right across from Edward.

_See? I'm evolved and all that shit._

Or maybe I wasn't.

Maybe, I was just the stupid new girl who couldn't learn from other people's mistakes. Who, when she saw a person being avoided like the plague, couldn't just realize that maybe the majority of her classmates knew what they were talking about when they said to leave Edward alone.

Because by the end of my history class, I certainly got it.

Edward _was_ a Grade-A prick!

But, of course, I had to learn that, the hard way.

My first lesson came rather quickly when I passed a worksheet over to him. He didn't even look at me when he snatched it out of my hand. Lucky for him I didn't get a paper cut.

I was still looking, taken aback by his unprovoked rudeness, when he turned to me suddenly, and with cold, dead eyes, stated evenly and firmly, "No."

"No what?" I asked. _Had I unknowingly asked him a question?_

"Whatever it is you want, the answer is no."

"I don't want anything." I _almost_ called him a douche bag, but then I realized that people are probably only nice to him when they want something and so he's conditioned to think that way.

So I cut him a little slack, but he was certainly skating on thin ice.

And a few minutes later, he fell right through it.

My second lesson occurred when my pencil rolled off my desk and onto the floor next to his foot. Instead of pick it up or ignore it like any normal person would have done, that ass hat had the nerve to kick it and send it sailing across the room.

I just stared at him in disbelief, because he didn't even know me and he was being a complete jerk.

When he saw me staring at him, he fleetingly looked right _through_ me, before turning his attention back to the worksheet the class was supposed to be doing.

"Go get my fucking pencil you douche bag," I hissed, finally using the name for him that he oh-so-deserved.

He didn't acknowledge me, but he did start mumbling some shit like one of the bums that panhandle in front of the Shop Rite market.

Whatever. I didn't have time for this shit. I needed to get this worksheet done so that I could get credit for my class work. With that stupid Physics class still on my schedule, I couldn't afford to squander my given opportunities for easy A's.

I reached over and snatched his pencil out of his hand and started to do my worksheet. When I saw him looking at me like I was about to utter my last breath, I gestured to the other side of the classroom with a nod of my head.

"Your pencil's over there."

"I heard you have syphilis," he said in an eerie whisper.

"Sure do, and it's contagious, so don't touch anymore of my shit," I said. _What was this, the fourth grade? _Surely Mr. Cullen could do better than syphilis.

Apparently he thought so, too.

"Keep your legs closed. I'm down wind and you smell like the dumpster behind the Happy Clam Chinese restaurant," he said without even looking my way.

"Shut the fuck up, you mother-fuckin' –"

"Miss Swan!"

Gotta love teachers and their perfect timing.

"We do _not_ use that type of language in this class," she told me.

I didn't even have time to pour on the ol' charm and apologize before she handed me a demerit slip and loudly informed the class that I had detention afterschool.

"Serves you right, you cunt muscle," Edward said in a low bark.

_Cunt muscle? Cunt muscle?_

I waited until the teacher turned her back to the blackboard and then I reached across the row and punched him as hard as I could on his black-sweatered arm.

"What the fuck, bitch!"

I finally got to see Edward's full face when he swung his head to look at me violently and all of his hair moved away from his profile.

I had never seen so many zits in my life. Well, not on one person, at least.

"Edward, Isabella, out!" the teacher pointed toward the door. "I'll alert the principal of your imminent visit. And Edward? You may join Isabella in detention." She held out a demerit slip to him, which he ignored as he flew past her in a fit of rage on his way out of the classroom.

Everyone turned to look at me like I was the biggest idiot this side of the Mayflower. I had just pissed off Edward Cullen and now I had to walk, unsupervised, across the campus to the office with him.

They all looked at me as if I was as good as dead.

I tried to act like I didn't care as I sauntered slowly out of the room, but on the inside, I admit, I was quaking in my boots. As I neared the door, my eyes slid from side to side, searching for the shadow I was sure was going to jump out and shank me.

But Edward was nowhere in sight.

I rushed to the principal's office like I was excited to be there and arrived just as Edward was stepping into the nurse's office. I was still sitting in my chair, waiting, fifteen minutes later when he walked out of the nurse's office and headed for the exit.

I couldn't hide the shock on my face as he walked right past me without going near the principal's office.

_What the fuck? Was this guy an Untouchable or something?_

Well fuck that shit. If he wasn't going, neither was…

"Isabella?"

My head snapped up at the sound of my name. The principal's assistant was staring over at me from her chair. "Mr. Rinker will see you now."

Mr. Rinker? My _guidance _counselor? Oh that was even worse than the principal!

Man, that fuck-wad, Cullen. The next time I saw him, I was definitely going to kick his ass…maybe.

Needless to say, there was no need for a third lesson. I'm not that stupid.

Stay the hell away from Edward Cullen.

Got it.


	4. Chapter 4

My mother was totally pissed, the next week, when she looked up my grades online (fuck computers and their mettlesome ways!) and saw that I had an "N" in citizenship for the week in my history class.

"What the hell is this?" she asked me, flying into my room with her printout while I was trying to do my homework. Okay, really I was trying to create a new nail polish color, but she didn't need to know that.

"What?" I asked. I was shocked to see that she could even see the comments the teacher had entered in. "Some kid was messing with me and I defended myself."

"It says that you shouted swear words in the middle of class and disrupted the lesson," my mom read.

"He called me a cunt muscle," I told her nonchalantly.

I watched as my mother started to dismiss my explanation but then realized what I'd said.

"A cunt muscle? What is that?"

"It's fucked up, that's what it is," I said.

"Bella, your language is atrocious. I mean it. I told you last summer that you need to stop with these ten-cent words. It makes you look cheap and low-class. And if you don't know enough not to yell them out in the middle of class…"

"I didn't yell it out. She's exaggerating."

"Yes, well then it says that you were given detention and you didn't serve it."

"I forgot," I shrugged. That was only partially a lie. I did decide that if Edward didn't have to see the principal, or his guidance counselor, then I didn't have to serve detention. And then I effectively forgot all about it.

"Why didn't you tell me about this? Why didn't I find out about this until I checked your grade report online?"

Seriously? She expected me to answer this? Who tells on themselves?

"I didn't think it was a big deal," I told her.

Well, apparently, my mom did, because she totally pulled her psych babble on me and said that I had too much free time that I used to focus on my poor habits.

"You have until Christmas vacation to find a job. After Christmas break, I will not pay your gas or your car insurance anymore," she stated with finality.

"That's not fair!" I hollered. "You're changing the agreement! You said grades and now you're just pulling this out of your a- out of the air!" I corrected myself. "All I'm supposed to do is keep my grades at a 2.9 or above each quarter. We had a contract!"

For a minute, it looked like I was going to win. She started blinking rapidly, which she always did when she felt cornered and was about to lose an argument.

"Fine," she said stiffly. "The quarter ends October thirteenth. If you don't have a 2.9 GPA by then, you're getting a job."

Tell me something I don't know.

The whole conversation seemed like a waste of time to me, and I couldn't figure out why my mother brought up the ordeal only to back down minutes later.

"Sounds like she freaked out," Alice said when I told her about it later the next day at lunch. We were back at that same table again, pretending that we weren't purposely sitting in plain view of the Lincoln High Yuppies.

"She totally freaked out," I agreed. "I just don't know why."

"Well did you see what the teacher wrote about you? Something she read must have really spooked her," Alice suggested.

"All she said was that I disrupted the class with a vulgar outburst," I recited. "My mother knows all about my vulgar outbursts," I rolled my eyes. "It's no surprise."

"Well I don't know what to tell you," Alice's interest began to wane as it usually did. Plus, the blonde curly-haired dude that she was still pretending not to be head over hills in love with was still in her field of vision. "But something triggered her reaction."

I wasn't convinced that Alice knew what she was talking about as I thought over what my mother and I talked about the night before. Then it suddenly hit me.

"Cunt!"

Alice looked over at me fiercely. "What the hell?"

"I told my mother that Edward called me a cunt muscle. She probably thinks I'm fucking him," I slapped my forehead as I figured it out.

"That's a pretty loose correlation," Alice said, still stinging a bit from my language.

"Trust me. It's not."

And that was all I needed to say. Alice just shrugged, accepted my words and didn't think another thing about it.

However, I, on the other hand, couldn't _stop _thinking about it, because it reminded me that not only was I not hooking up with Edward (_like hell!_), I wasn't hooking up with anybody, and that just wouldn't do.

As soon as I got home, I pulled out my little black book, which was actually silver, and went down the list of guys I'd messed around with a time or two.

After the third call, I was pretty irritated at all the small talk I'd had to endure only to find out the guy was in a relationship, out of town or, my personal favorite, at Bible college!

But that wasn't enough to deter me. Because the more bleak the outlook seemed, the hornier I became.

Finally, in the most desperate move ever, I broke down and called my ex-boyfriend, Mike. I had to sit through a bit more small talk, but that turned out to be beneficial when I found out that he and his girlfriend had called it quits about a month prior.

"So, what are you doing right now?" I interrupted him when he was partway through a story about his new spark plugs. _Seriously?_ He dated me for months. Surely he knows that if I'm calling him at night, it's not because I want to hear about his stupid car.

"Um…nothing." He hesitated, which meant that he was starting to catch a clue. "Why?"

"I don't know. I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out or something." I placed an emphasis on the _or something_. I could do without the hanging out.

After a few more minutes of hemming and hawing, Mike finally conceded and invited me over. I told my mother I needed to get gas, which wasn't even a lie, and then I high-tailed it over to Mike's house.

He was waiting for me on the porch.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" I asked after we'd been standing on his porch like idiots for a good five minutes.

"See, here's the thing," Mike began nervously. "My mom isn't what I'd call your biggest fan and…"

"So I'm not allowed in the house?" I asked in disbelief.

"Well, you are," he paused to shift his weight from one foot to the other. "But we'll have to wait until she goes to bed. She's watching TV in the front room."

I rolled my eyes. I didn't have all night! My mother thought I was just running to the gas station!

"Can't we just go around the back?" I asked. _Had this guy snuck out a day in his life?_

He shrugged. "I guess." But he didn't move.

"Mike?" I questioned him when the night looked like it was going nowhere.

"Bella, what's up?" he finally asked. "Are you here to get back together or something? Because I told you, I don't think you and I make a very good match."

I just stared blankly at him. What the heck did I ever see in this guy? I'm standing here, on his porch, offering him sex with no strings attached and he's stalling? If I didn't remember the time I made him come so hard that he started speaking in tongues, I _might_ have gotten a complex just then.

"You know what? Forget it," I said as I took the first step off his porch.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me back over to him.

"Hang on," he said. "I didn't say you had to go…I just…I mean, I don't know how much time we have. If you wanna…you know…suck my dick or something…"

He wasn't even worth the 'fuck off' that he deserved. I wrenched my arm free and stalked down to my car, daring him to stop me.

"What does a girl have to do to get laid in this tiny, fucked up town?" I screamed at the top of my lungs when I was alone in my car and careening toward the gas station.

I didn't get an answer to my question, but fate tickled its own funny bone that night when I pulled into the service station to see none other than Edward Cullen.

He was sitting in the back of a red convertible BMW and there was a beautiful blonde – okay, I couldn't see her face, but everything that I could see about her was beautiful, therefore _she_ was beautiful – sitting in the front seat.

"High priced hooker," I muttered to myself as I got out of the car and headed inside to pay for my gas with the forty dollars my mother had given me. There was no way in hell that a girl that looked like that would be anywhere near Edward unless he was paying her – a lot.

Just as I was about to pass his car, a huge, burly football-player looking guy came barging out of the store and headed straight for the red convertible.

"Hey, Rose! What kind of gum did you say you wanted?"

I only stopped looking at him long enough to see who the heck Rose was and whether or not she was woman enough to keep a man as gorgeous as the one standing in front of me.

Of course it was the beautiful girl in the convertible that answered back, and now that I could see her face, I saw that she was, in fact, worthy of the title I'd given her. In fact, she wasn't just beautiful; she was stunning.

_Well, shit._ So much for taking a chance on the Super Bowl contender. But that didn't mean I couldn't look, and since he was walking right in front of me, I trained my eyes on his ass.

I bet he does play football.

And I bet he's a tight end.

As I came back outside to pump my gas, I tried to avoid looking at Edward, who looked sorely out of place sitting in the back of that convertible with those beautiful people. He noticed me watching him at that moment, and I readied myself for his signature sneer, but he didn't give it to me. Instead, he just watched me like he was studying some foreign species in a nature exhibit. I flipped him the wild bird and then walked over to my car without another glance in his direction.

When I made it home, my mother met me at the door and pointed to her watch. "It doesn't take that long to get gas, Bella. Where were you?"

I didn't have the energy to argue with her. I fished the receipt out of my jacket pocket, handed it over to her and headed toward my bedroom. I had an appointment with a few of my fingers, and if I didn't find release soon, I seriously was going to start foaming at the mouth.

Alone in my bedroom, I stared up at the ceiling trying my hardest to illicit some type of reaction from my body, angry the whole while that I had to do this myself. Last year, all I would have had to do was make a call or two and BAM! I would have had a cock faster than a transvestite on a street corner. But now…

Nothing was happening. Not even a hint of tingling.

"Uuggh!" I yelled in frustration as I tossed my pillow across the room.

I blamed this town. I blamed Lincoln High school and its population of inbred nit-wits. I blamed Sheila and her harebrained schemes to keep me isolated from a normal, sexually gratifying society.

But mostly I blamed Edward Cullen. Because it if it hadn't been for his stupid file swallowing up the picture of the Beautiful One, I never would have transferred to my hell-hole of a school. And if it wasn't for his dumb ass remarks, I wouldn't have gotten into trouble in history and my mother wouldn't be on the warpath and I could be halfway across town at a college party instead of here, finger fucking myself to no avail.

"Fuck my life," I muttered.

Sometime after that, I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up the sun was peering through my window. I squinted at the clock hoping that by some miracle my mother had allowed me to oversleep and I'd miss my first period class.

No such luck. I'd woken up exactly three minutes before my alarm would have gone off had I remembered to set it.

I dragged my ass out of bed and got into the shower – and no, the showerhead didn't get me off either.

"Well you're even more pleasant than usual this morning," my mother said when I made it downstairs and dropped onto a barstool at the counter. I didn't even want to deal with whatever pep talk she'd taken the entire night to think up, so I grabbed a plain bagel, jumped in my car and high tailed it out of there.

The gas indicator on the dashboard telling me that I had a full tank reminded me that I'd seen Edward at the gas station, and I got even more pissed off than I already was.

Yet being pissed off was no comparison for how I felt when I got to my first class and saw the word "TEST" written in large letters on the dry erase board.

I _knew_ I should have stayed in bed.

"It's not like tests aren't announced, Bella," Alice said at lunch when I was doing my usual complaining routine.

"Remember that golden rule, _Mary_? If you don't have anything nice to say…" I let her know that she was irritating me.

"That's not the golden rule, bitch, and if you call me that again, I swear to God I'll kick you in the cunt."

"That'll be more action than I've seen in awhile."

Alice tried not to, but she couldn't help laughing. "Why didn't you just study?"

I sighed and looked over at Alice who was doing her best not to devour the macaroni salad she was eating.

"A block with a mass of 3.0 kg is being pulled up a ramp by a rope that is parallel to the ramp surface, which is inclined at 25o from the horizontal. The block accelerates at 1 m/s2 up the ramp and the coefficient of kinetic friction between the block and the surface is 0.20. What's the tension of the rope?"

Alice's face contorted into a grimace. "Say what?"

"Exactly."

"Wow. You _are_ smart."

"Like hell I am. My answer to that problem was 'tight enough to hang myself'."

"Yeah, but you remembered the question. I never would have been able to remember that."

"You would if you were staring at it for as long as I was," I told her.

Secretly, I hated when people called me smart. It was like it was a socially acceptable way to call me an underachiever to my face.

And if Alice saw my grade report for the first quarter, she definitely wouldn't call me smart ever again. The only two classes I didn't get deficiency notices in were art and P.E.

I didn't even give my mother the luxury of handing me the classified ads. I started looking for a job on my own, but after three weeks, and a quickly dwindling allowance, I still hadn't found anything.

"The only place that called me back was the Dairy Burger and they wanted me to work Monday through Friday from 10 in the morning until 2 p.m. I don't know what part of high school senior they didn't understand," I told Alice when we were walking to our second period class.

I waited for her response until I looked over and saw that she wasn't listening to me at all. Her preppy boy was walking toward us and she was doing that thing where she was trying to look like she wasn't looking.

"Just tell him you like him already," I quipped.

"Who said I like him?" Alice finally tuned in.

"You did," I informed her. When she eyed me suspiciously, I added. "If I tell someone they like a guy that they truly don't like, they immediately tell me that they don't like him. If they don't say anything, or they blush or look away or change the subject, then I know I'm on to something. And you, my dear, do all of those things."

"Whatever. Can we just go back to talking about you and leave who I may or may not like out of this?"

"What's his name, Alice?" I pressed on. "And the only reason we talk about me is because you refuse to talk about yourself."

"We talk about you because you're self-absorbed."

"I am not self-absorbed." _Am I?_ "And don't think I haven't noticed that you're still trying to change the subject."

"I'm going to regret this," Alice muttered as she exhaled. "His name is Jasper and don't ask me anything else because I won't tell you."

"Fine. And I'm not self-absorbed," I told her. I decided that I'm not.

"Whatever," Alice dismissed. We'd made it to our class. "And if you need a job so bad, check out the discount cinemas on Finchley street. They appeal to the senior crowd and don't play any new releases, but I heard they have an afternoon shift from three to seven. You could check it out."

"Are you serious?" I restrained the urge to grab her and shake more information from her.

"Yeah. I…used to have a friend who worked there."

As soon as school was out, I drove over to the discount movie theater, and as soon as I pulled up, I realized why I had never heard of it before. There was only one screen and the film that was showing at the moment was Cliffhanger. I'm not sure, but I think that movie came out the year I was born.

"The next showing is in forty-five minutes," a kind woman from behind the counter announced when I walked through the door. Her pale blue eyes were kind and her reddish hair framed her narrow face nicely.

"I'm not here for the movie," I told her quickly. And then, realizing that I should make a good impression in case I someday had to work with her, I added in my nicest voice, "I'm actually here to inquire about an application…for a job."

"Are you serious?" she stone-walled me.

I took a step back and looked around, too nervous to answer in case someone was going to jump from behind the counter and shank me for making an attempt at employment.

"Y-yes?" I answered skeptically.

"How old are you?" she asked me.

"I just turned eighteen," I said.

"So you don't need a work permit," she grinned.

I exhaled in relief. She appeared _happy_ that I wanted a job.

"Well, I'm a senior, so I wouldn't be able to work until after two-forty, but a friend told me that you have a shift that starts at three."

"What school do you go to?"

"Lincoln."

"I have a nephew that goes to Lincoln!"

"Really?"

The lady behind the counter rolled her eyes and then stuck her hand out at me. "Excuse my bad manners. My name is Bonnie Platt."

"Isabella," I shook her hand. I didn't recognize her last name, so I was pretty sure I didn't know her nephew. "Nobody calls me Isabell-"

"Well, why don't I have you fill out this application. Have you ever worked in a theater before?" Bonnie asked.

"No, but I used to man the concession stand at the rec centers in Kirkland during the summers," I told her.

"So you've had cash handling experience?"

"Yeah."

"And it sounds like you've got customer service skills," Bonnie smiled at me. "My nephew works here most evenings. My niece's boyfriend was working the other shifts, but he just had to quit because his football scholarship was in jeopardy. I already hired two replacements, but I just got this note today," she held up a slip of paper, "from one of the new hires that said she needs to switch to the opening shift because she doesn't have transportation for the evening shift. Do you have transportation?"

"Yeah, I have a car."

"Well, Isabell," Bonnie said. "I'm willing to give this a try if you are."

"Great!" I was almost happy enough to jump up and down for joy.

"I'll put you on the schedule for a few days…" she looked down at a paper calendar that was taped behind the counter. "You know what, it looks like the only good training day for you will be tomorrow because there's a new film coming in on Wednesday and I need you to be ready by Friday…"

"I can start tomorrow," I inserted instantly.

Bonnie beamed back at me. "Well you're just making this too easy," she smiled. "I'll leave a note for my nephew telling him to train you tomorrow at three. Just fill that application out, bring in two forms of ID – your driver's license and school ID will be fine – and we'll get you all set up."

I thanked her profusely and then left in a hurry before I had a chance to mess everything up, like by accidentally volunteering that I didn't really handle cash at the rec center because everyone paid in tokens that they got from inserting dollars into a conversion machine. But…that's not really a big deal, right?

I floated all the way home, so anxious to tell my mother some good news, for once. She wasn't as excited as I thought she'd be, but when I called her on it, she said that she'd just wanted me to do well in school so that I didn't have to work.

"But I am very proud of you for holding up your side of the bargain and going out there and making things happen instead of shirking your responsibility."

"Thanks, Mom."_ I think._

I left my house that morning with my new job still fresh on my mind. Alone in my car, away from any other prying eyes and ears, I finally allowed myself to celebrate the fact that I'd been able to look for and find a job without the help of anyone else.

Okay, well, Alice gave me the idea, but I did all of the work.

And if Alice had been in school that day, I would have told her how grateful to her I was for mentioning the theater and how I'd let her in for free anytime she wanted. If I could even do that…

I was still thinking about the possible perks to my new position when I arrived at the theater ten minutes before three o'clock.

"Look at me, being all punctual and shit," I told myself as I used my rearview mirror to apply a fresh coat of lip gloss – partly because I wanted to look good for my first day and partly because I was being trained by Bonnie's _nephew._ It was high time I made some new acquaintances of the male variety.

I had tiny butterflies in my stomach as I walked through the glass doors and stood in the small lobby. I didn't see any other employee area so I stood there like an idiot waiting for Bonnie's nephew to materialize.

I waited for a good two minutes before I decided to make use of my last few seconds of freedom for the next four hours and use the restroom. I was just about to the door marked 'Ladies' when a door across the hall marked 'Gents' came swinging open and none other than Lucifer himself came walking out.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he hissed at me.

I opened my mouth to tell him to slither on back to hell where he belonged when my eyes caught the gleam of something small and rectangular affixed to the front of his shirt.

It was an employee name tag.

"Fuck. Me."

I stood their gaping like a moron while Edward scowled and told me that there wasn't a movie for another hour and that he wouldn't sell me a fucking ticket anyway.

"Are you done yet?" I asked him when I finally found my voice. "And if there is at all a god in heaven, please tell me you're not Bonnie's nephew."

If I thought it wasn't possible for Edward to get any paler than he already was, I was dead wrong.

"What are you talking about? How do you know my aunt?"

I shot him an expression that told him he was a dumbass so I didn't have to. "You're expecting a new hire at three, right?"

Edward glanced up at the clock. "No fucking way." He stalked over to the counter and picked up a small piece of paper. "You're _Isabell?_"

"Bella." I knew if I told this fucker Isabella, that's what he'd call me and I hated that name. I only used it with my grandmother and when I was trying to sound more grown up.

"Well I'm not training you," Edward stood back and crossed his arms over his chest. Before he could say anything else, an elderly couple came in and he silently sold them two tickets before offering them popcorn, which they refused.

"I thought you said the next movie didn't start for an hour," I told him after I watched the couple disappear into the theater.

Edward didn't bother to acknowledge my statement. He picked up the schedule and I could see his eyes scanning over it meticulously.

"I'm not training you," he repeated. "In fact, you might as well leave now because I'm going to tell my aunt that I refuse to work with you."

"I'm not leaving," I told him indignantly. "Your aunt hired me for a reason."

"Yeah, well she can just as easily hire somebody else for that same reason."

"She hired me and if she doesn't want me here, then she's going to have to tell me that. Otherwise, I'm staying."

Edward didn't bother looking at me, but he did point to his badge, which, in addition to his name, read 'Assistant Manager'. I would have been slightly impressed if I didn't know he only had the job due to nepotism.

"That tag says _assistant_. That means that you assist someone who has more authority than you. I'm guessing that would be your aunt – you know, the person who hired me."

Again, Edward acted like he was ignoring me. He checked a few drawers, fluffed up the stale looking popcorn, wiped down the counter space in front of the fountain drinks, and then disappeared into the theater. Meanwhile, I was left standing there like a dumbass.

"Um…excuse me…do you work here?"

I looked down the counter and saw two ladies standing in front of the popcorn with their dollar bills clutched in their hands.

"Uh…" I glanced over at the theater doors, wondering if I should go get Edward or ask them to come back. Then I came to my senses. "Yes. Would you like popcorn?"

"A small please," the woman smiled at me. "And a small Sprite."

"I'll have the same," her friend spoke up.

I nodded and tried to look like I knew what I was doing. I glanced behind me at the cardboard tubs for the popcorn and noticed the prices displayed on the wall above me.

"You know, if you guys shared a large, it'd save you four dollars, and you'd get a free refill," I suggested.

One would have thought I'd mentioned calorie-free bon bons the way these women started falling all over themselves at the idea of a bargain. They quickly agreed to a large popcorn and thanked me copiously for not giving them too much ice in their drinks. It wasn't until they walked away that I noticed Edward standing off to the side, glaring at me.

"What?" I asked him.

"We make most of our money from concessions. You just jipped the theater out of six bucks. Ten, if you count the free refill."

"Well if _somebody_ had trained me like they were supposed to, I would have known that."

"There's no point. You won't be coming back."

I rolled my eyes at his idle threat. Actually, I _hoped_ it was an idle threat. I really needed this job. Imagine what my mother would say if I showed up at home after my first day and told her I'd gotten fired. She'd probably change the contract to include rent!

"Young man," a gentleman knocked on the Formica in front of Edward. "There's a mess in the men's room."

Edward nodded but didn't say anything. I noticed that he did his best not to speak, unless he was insulting me, of course.

"Well?" Edward finally said after a while.

I looked up to see him watching me expectantly. "What?"

"You heard him. There's a mess in the men's room."

"I can't go in the guy's bathroom!" I told him.

"Why not? You're an employee, aren't you?"

"Oh,_ now_ I'm an employee?"

"For now."

"Well…" I looked around. "What am I supposed to clean it with?"

Edward lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Figure it out."

Oh this motherfucker better start sleeping with one eye open.

I knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to make me quit, because I'd probably been right – he _couldn't_ fire me. But that didn't stop me from heading through a small obscure door with a 'Do Not Enter' tag on it. Inside there was a bunch of boxes, a small card table with two chairs and in the very corner, a mop and pail. I grabbed an orange caution sign like the ones I'd seen in grocery stores when they had to mop something up, and retreated back to the lobby.

Edward looked indifferent to the fact that I'd found the supplies. He was probably laughing on the inside that he didn't have to do it.

When I walked into the men's bathroom, the smell of piss almost knocked me over. But instead of complaining or running for fresh air, I turned on the hot water and stuck the bucket under the spray. I didn't see any cleanser, so I pumped the hand soap dispenser a few times and watched the bucket fill up with suds.

"Bring it on," I muttered to myself as I watched my reflection in the mirror.

Because as much as I hated manual labor, the smell of old-man pee and taking orders from assholes, I hated the idea of being broken by one even more.


	5. Chapter 5

"I think I hate you a little bit," I said as I threw my backpack on the floor behind Alice. She made it to our second period class before me because I'd ditched my Physics class (and Edward) to get a nap in my car; I overslept.

"Good," Alice said nonchalantly. "I like you better when you're not trying to be my BFF."

I simply gave her the finger as I slid into my seat.

"Okay, fine. You've piqued my interest. What's your problem _today_?" Alice rolled her eyes.

"My fuckin' problem is that you sent me to that crusty old theater _knowing_ Edward works there. Don't think I didn't figure out that he's the _friend_ you were talking about, even though you said your friend _used_ to work there."

Alice shrugged. "Look, what do you want from me? You were whining that you needed a job and I knew of a place that had a shift you could work…possibly."

"And the part about your friend who actually still does work there?" I huffed.

"I didn't lie about that. Edward and I used to be friends. We're not friends anymore. Therefore, my friend _used _to work there. Now, Edward works there, but he's not my friend," Alice answered methodically.

I stared at Alice blankly while her words registered. _She used to be friends with Edward?_ That meant she knew something about him that might give me an advantage in my new quest to keep my job.

"You were friends with _Edward?_"I asked.

"No," Alice stated with a flat authority. "Save your breath."

"No, as in you weren't friends with him?"

"No, as in I'm not going to tell you why I'm not friends with him anymore."

"I wasn't going to ask you that."

"Oh."

"But I'm curious as to how you could ever be friends with such a vile human being."

"He wasn't always," Alice began and then thought better of it. "But let's just say I respect his right to be as vile and anti-social as he wants."

"Well I don't know how respectful he'd consider you; sending his worst enemy to get a job where he works."

"You're not his worst enemy," Alice turned and looked me up and down. "But you might be a close second."

_Fuck that._ I absolutely hated that shit-stick and if I considered him my worst enemy, he damn well had better consider me his.

And to me, it seemed like he did – at least when we were at work. At school he completely ignored my existence, and I didn't hesitate to do the same to him. But at work…at work Edward made it clear that he did _not _want me there_._

I'd been right on one account, though. Edward _couldn't_ fire me. He could, however, make my life a living nightmare until I quit, which was exactly what he was determined to do.

After cleaning the shitter on my first shift had had no effect, Edward seemed to kick it into high gear. One night, I think he imported a bucket of diarrhea in from a third world country (cue visual of Slumdog Millionaire) and splashed it on the walls in the girls' room, because well…that kind of thing just doesn't happen without a little help.

"Bathroom needs cleaning," Edward grumped in my direction as he thrust the mop and pail-on-wheels in my direction.

For someone who didn't know me very well, he sure did know my weakness: my stomach. I had a very low tolerance for gross things, which was why I nearly vomited as soon as I walked into the bathroom and saw all that ass fudge all over the place. Most likely, if it hadn't been coating the toilet, I probably would have thrown up, but as it was, that would have only brought my face closer to the offensive sight and smell.

"I should just light a match in here and torch this whole building," I said to myself as I poured an entire bottle of cleaner into the bucket after dousing the walls and toilet with the industrial strength chemical. But I knew that an antic like that would get me fired, which was all Edward wanted anyway and I'd go to great lengths not to give him that pleasure.

Instead, I cleaned that bathroom so well that it sparkled probably better than it had when it was brand new.

Okay, maybe that was overstating it a bit, but there wasn't any shit anywhere that I could see or smell. I inspected my clothes and hands and was happy to see that I hadn't gotten anything on myself. Edward would just love that, wouldn't he?

Hmm…

First, I washed my hands in scalding hot water before reaching in my pocket and pulling out a Kit-Kat I'd swiped earlier from the concession stand. I took off the wrapper and held the candy in my hand until it started to melt into an awful mess – which didn't take long. I examined my hand, and sure enough, it looked just like the crap that Edward had smeared on the walls.

With care not to disturb the chocolate on my hand, I made it out of the bathroom, put the mop and bucket away and then went to stand before Edward like I was awaiting my next task.

"That was gross," I told him, watching his face for any sign that he was responsible for the inconceivable amount of shit I'd just waded through.

"It's a bathroom. They're gross," he replied glibly.

"Not _that_ gross."

"Whatever," he frowned, obviously wanting me to go away.

"So, what next?" I strummed the counter and watched Edward.

"I don't know. Check the.."

Suddenly he smirked and I knew he'd seen what he was sure was diarrhea residue on the side of my right hand.

He started to chuckle a bit. "You have something on your hand."

"What is it?" I asked, acting like I hadn't a clue what he could possibly be laughing at.

I looked down; taking the appropriate amount of time for believable consideration, I slowly lifted my hand, pausing to take in the putrid expression on Edward's face, and stuck my tongue out tentatively to test the brown, sticky substance.

Then I took a long, languid lick before sucking my hand clean.

"You're fuckin' gross," Edward shook his head at me. "And I knew it was chocolate."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Yeah, that's why you looked like you were gonna spew chunks just now."

"I always look like that when you're standing in front of me," he quipped.

My middle finger was just itching for it, so without bothering to check to see if anyone was standing behind me, I flipped that mother-fucker off.

I heard an audible gasp and turned to see a full on Geritol convention glaring at me through the rims of their spectacles.

"What?" I shrugged. "He was trying to discontinue the senior discount. My grandmother loves this place and she's on a fixed income."

Yeah, the lady behind me didn't buy it either. In fact, she muttered to her friend that employers don't know how to hire good help anymore.

"If you'd like to write a formal complaint," Edward said, materializing with a business card, "you can write to this address. It makes it much easier for the managers to deal with incidences they didn't witness when someone puts it in writing. Otherwise it's just my word against hers."

"Thank you, young man," the woman accepted the card. "At least _someone_ knows their manners around here." She tossed a look of disgust in my direction.

I had a daydream that instant of someone putting super glue in her denture cream, followed closely by another daydream of someone ramming a chainsaw up Edward's ass.

I narrowed my eyes at him in contempt, but he merely returned it with a smug smile, thinking that would irritate me even more.

It did, but only for a minute. In the next instant I realized that his aunt most likely told him that his complaints alone weren't enough for her to terminate me so he was going to try to get other people to complain. Well fuck that. I was not going to give him any fodder for that plan. I needed a plan of my own, a sort of Operation-Save-A-Job, because I needed to keep my job in the worst way – a point reiterated greatly by my mother when I got home that night.

"Thirty-three percent, Bella?" she was waving a paper in my face. "You got a 33% on your Physics test?"

I grabbed the paper to get a better look at it. "Wow," I smiled. "I did better than I expected!"

"You think this is funny?" Mom grabbed the test back and gave me a paper cut in the process.

"Ow! Fuck!" I yelled as I examined the area between my thumb and forefinger.

"Bella!"

_Oops._

"So what? Now that you've got your high-class job at that low-budget theater you think you don't have to try anymore?"

"No," I answered lamely.

"Well that's exactly what it seems like to me. All you need is your car and your foul mouth and a few bucks in your pocket and you think you've got it all figured out." She walked closer to me and flipped a lock of my hair. "Well let me tell you something, dear heart. All this…" she gestured to my body, "is fleeting. Sure, you might turn a few heads and catch a few hearts, but what good is that if that's all you're good for? No man worth having wants a woman that's trashy and uneducated."

"Thanks for the compliment, Mom," I rolled my eyes at her.

"Don't get flip with me," she nearly yelled. "You're not the victim here, Bella. If anything, the mother who tried to give you a better life is the victim because the more I do for you, the more you piss it away!"

I was so tired of having this argument. It always ended the same way: with my mother telling me that she doesn't expect me to be _her_ but that she does expect me to try, when really she and I both know that she really does expect me to be her. I mean, really, if I don't plan to go into some kind of medical field, what the hell do I need Physics for?

"What are you going to fall back on when you mess up your job at the theater, huh? Because you and I both know you're gonna blow that like you blow everything else."

I walked away from my mother that night as if her words had fallen on deaf ears, but really, they hadn't. I'd heard every syllable and gosh damn-it if they didn't sting a little. Okay, a lot. She'd basically called me a dumbass, trashy tramp. I don't even think Lindsay Lohan's mother would stoop that low.

I was still thinking about that argument two afternoons later when I went to work at the theater. And it was like the universe was out to prove my mother's point. First, my-ex, Mike, showed up with his mother and grandmother. He looked completely surprised and embarrassed to see me, as if I didn't know that he watched chick flicks with his mother whenever he got the chance.

"Uh…hey," he gave me a cheap wave as his mother bought tickets for Fried Green Tomatoes. I'm sure this move cost five dollars at Wal-Mart. Why they were paying $9.50 for three tickets was beyond me.

"Hey," I answered. If I'd had sex at all recently I might not have noticed that Mike's pants were a little too tight or that one of the buttons on his fly was undone.

"Michael," his mother said sharply when she saw our interaction. "Let's go get a seat."

"Yeah, this one's a real blockbuster. You wouldn't want to risk getting stuck sitting on the front row," I muttered under my breath. We'd sold all of six tickets already.

Mike's mother didn't hear me, but Mike did and he made a face behind his mother's back.

Edward also overheard me and he cracked a bit of a smile.

That was the first time I mistook him for a human being that night.

The second time was about twenty minutes later when Mike emerged from the theater and headed straight for the counter. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward getting into position, thinking that Mike was about to buy that nasty day-old popcorn or overpriced candy.

But Mike's eyes were on me and nothing more.

"Hey," he said quietly as he leaned across the counter and stared at me.

"Hey," I said in return. _Hadn't we done this already?_

"So…don't mind my mom," he rolled his eyes and then looked over his shoulder like he was afraid she'd walked up and overheard him. "Actually, I'm trying to find a way to ditch her."

"Oh really?" I couldn't hide the amusement in my voice. Mike was so obvious.

"Yeah, so…what are you up to later?"

"Well, seeing as how it's a Wednesday night, I'm up to finishing off my shift and driving home. Why? Know of a party that's going on or something?"

"Well…no, not a party," Mike tried to give me those puppy dog eyes. "But I figured…maybe we could finish what we started when you came by that time…or what we should have started."

I stared at Mike blankly for a minute, trying to figure out if there was a recent encounter besides the one where he basically told me to go around back through the doggy-door if I wanted to give him a blow job.

"Are you serious?" I asked him in a tone that revealed that I wasn't into his proposition.

"Well…yeah."

_What did I ever see in this guy? Please, somebody tell me... Anybody?_ Oh yeah, he has a fairly decent sized dick.

Even still…

"The popcorn needs to be turned and the counters cleaned," Edward's voice broke through Mike's nonsense.

"Well you work here, too, right?" Mike asked Edward dismissively.

I turned to see that Edward hadn't taken his eyes off me, completely disregarding that Mike had even said anything.

"I'll see you later, Mike," I said as I moved to do what Edward said, not because I was an obedient employee, but because I welcomed a reason to get away from Mike.

"Really?" Mike asked eagerly.

Then, realizing his misunderstanding, I frowned.

"No," I told him. Lucky for me, he understood basic English and walked back to his mommy in Theater 1.

"Asshole," Edward muttered.

"You got that right," I agreed as I reached for a king sized peanut butter cup and tore into the packaging.

Edward looked over at me as I took a huge bite.

"What?" I asked him, thinking he was going to ask me how I knew Mike. I was almost embarrassed to admit that I'd dated him while completely sober.

"Did you buy that?" he nodded toward the half eaten candy in my hand.

"Yeah, right," I laughed.

Edward, however, didn't. "I saw you eating candy earlier today."

"So? I'm a girl. I like chocolate." I punctuated my sentence by licking my fingers. "Don't act like you don't eat it either."

"I don't. I don't like candy," Edward said, staring me down.

"Let me guess, it's bad for your complexion?" I asked sarcastically. Edward had more zits than a Clearasil testing lab.

For a fleeting moment I saw a sinister gleam in Edward's eye, but he cloaked it in the next second with a question.

"It doesn't make you sick? To eat that much chocolate?"

I shrugged. "I don't eat _that_ much. Just a few pieces here and there. Like," I reached over and grabbed a package of M&Ms. "There's hardly anything in here, so if I eat these, it's really not that much." I opened the box to show him.

"How much would you say you ate, on an average night?" he asked.

I put the M&Ms down and turned to face him directly. Surely he wasn't that interested in my candy consumption habits.

"Why?"

"Because," he pulled a small black cartridge out of his pants pocket before removing a calculator. In the process, a prescription pill bottle fell out and skittered over to me. I reached down to retrieve it, but Edward beat me to it – not before I saw the name of the medication, however. _Librium._ I'd have to memory bank that one for later.

"It's $4.25 for each candy bar, and I've already seen you eat two…and you opened that box, so there's three…that's $12.75. You work, on average, four days per week, so that means you help yourself to about $50 every week – an additional $200 a month," Edward prattled away as he played with the buttons on his calculator.

"I haven't even worked here a month," I rolled my eyes at him. "Don't underestimate me."

"So you're just gonna keep taking candy without paying for it?" he asked me in disbelief.

"We sell about two candy bars a night. The way I see it, I'm saving you the hassle tossing out next week's garbage."

Suddenly Edward grinned as he reached over and tapped a button on the black cartridge that lay on the counter next to his calculator.

"You're so fired," he told me. "You just confessed to stealing company property."

"It's a fuckin' candy bar."

"It's $50 a week! You might as well stick your hand in the cash register for all the difference."

"Whatever. I'll just replace it from Shop Rite and no one will even know."

"I'll know…" Edward picked up the device and placed a button. I could now see that it was some sort of recording device and he'd hoped that when he pressed play I would hear the sound of my own voice convicting me.

Instead, what I heard, what we _both_ heard, was the sound of a woman who was seemingly in the throes of passion, moaning and wailing to her heart's content.

"What the hell is that?" I asked.

Edward hurriedly pressed a button, and then, there I was, in all my glory, incriminating myself.

"That doesn't mean anything. I didn't know I was being recorded," I huffed.

"That only works in a court of law. I don't need to convince a jury. Just my aunt," Edward said smugly.

Shit.

In a last ditch effort to save myself, I repeated something I saw on one of my mother's court dramas, not sure that it would work, especially since Edward seemed to have some knowledge of the court system.

"Pay me, then," I told Edward.

"I'm not paying you shit," he told me, now back to the dark, scowling, sack of dung-cheese that he's always been.

"Well then you can't fire me. You can't let me go without giving me my final wages."

I held my breath, wondering if he'd hear the uncertainty in my voice.

He didn't.

"Whatever. You only have an hour left on your shift anyway," he shrugged.

I spent that last hour trying to be a model employee, but it seemed to have no effect on Edward. He paid me no attention.

At the end of my shift, as I walked to the back to clock out, I tried to come to terms with the fact that Edward had won and that I'd lost my job. I thought of how my mother would react to know that she, too, had been right about me. That instead of going to Wal-Mart and buying their $1 movie candy, I'd dipped into the company stash at my own demise.

Suddenly I realized how desperate I was not to succumb to Edward or my mother's expectations.

"Edward," I said softly when I spotted him hunched over a small desk in his "office". It was really just the end of a corridor marked for employees only.

"You can turn your nametag in now. Just burn the shirt. No one else is gonna want to wear it," he told me without looking up.

"Edward," I said again, more imploring.

He looked up at me then and I think he saw the utter defeat in my eyes, because he didn't say anything beyond, "What?"

"Can't we…work something out? I can't lose my job, man. I…can't." I was quite possibly the most earnest statement I'd ever made in my life. Wow. That was a sad thought.

"Well you should have thought of that before you stole shit," he responded, the venom was still present in his words, but his demeanor was not as terse.

"Can't you just…let me off with a warning or something if I promise not to do it again?" If I was smart, I would have said that with a Marilyn Monroe-esque pout as I fingered the lapel of his shirt with one finger. Instead, I kind of chuckled as I said it, and that _might_ have been what set Edward off as he stood up suddenly and knocked over the chair he'd been sitting in.

"No!" He bellowed. "No, I cannot let you off with a warning. You fuckin' broke the law. You stole shit. You fuckin' signed an agreement that you would not defraud or defame the company in any way while employed here. Who do you think you are? You can just do whatever the fuck you want and get away with it? You think my family, my aunt, should pay for your disregard of how much it costs to run this place?"

_Okay, whoa. Overreact much?_

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" I apologized. "And of course I don't think your family should pay. I'll pay for it, okay? I'll pay for the candy I ate and we'll call it even."

"That's not even. The only reason you're willing to pay is because you got caught. You'll do it again and it'll be much harder to catch you. That's how all thieves are," Edward stated. He seemed to be having a bit of fun at my expense, but I couldn't afford to call him on it. Not when I was only one rung above groveling.

"Well…then…I'll do whatever you want…" a vision of me riding a naked Edward, reverse cowgirl, danced through my mind. _Perish the thought._ But if that's what it took, at least I'd only be proving my mother right on one part of her argument – the trashy tramp factor.

"I want you to quit," Edward shrugged.

"Come on, Edward. Have a heart."

"Why should I?"

"Because," I leveled him with a stare, "I'll do _anything_ you want."

"Anything?"

_By George, I think he's got it!_

"Anything."

"If I don't turn in this recording to my aunt?"

"And you quit trying to fire me."

Edward looked down at his recording device as if he were deliberating on the idea. "So then give me something to record over it with," he said suddenly.

"Uh…okay," I said slowly. That sounded eerily too easy. "What do you want me to record?"

"I'll do the recording," Edward said cryptically as he tossed the recorder between his hands; his eyes focused serenely on the wall in front of him.

"Sure, whatever," I agreed. It beat seeing him naked.

Suddenly his eyes locked on to mine, and I can't determine if he actually said it, or if he merely mouthed it and I read his lips,

"Do you have a vibrator?"


	6. Chapter 6

_Do I have a vibrator? Do I have a VIBRATOR? _Who asks a question like that? And even worse, he asked it like he knew the answer was yes!

I knew that I would see Edward again on Friday, when I was scheduled to work, but every time I saw him prior to that, he completely ignored me and it made me wonder if I hadn't totally imagined our previous conversation.

Even still, I showed up on Friday with my "loot" securely tucked away in my backpack, new batteries and all. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little bit looking forward to what Edward had in mind. Because if he wanted me to bring a dildo it meant that he didn't plan on being a participant in that way, and that was fine by me. I was pretty sure that at the sight of Edward's naked cock my pussy would try to move in with my pancreas.

Still, I was totally down for him getting me off. I was starting to feel cobwebs growing up my vag and if I didn't get laid soon… I actually said that a lot, and truth be told, I didn't know _what_ I'd do if I didn't get laid soon. I'd never gone so long without it before. So yeah, I was ready for whatever Edward had in mind (sorta).

"Theater One needs to be cleaned out," Edward barely looked up at me when I walked through the door.

I rolled my eyes at his calling it Theater One, as if there was more than one theater.

Remembering that he still held my job over my head until I paid my debt in whatever fashion he had in mind, I didn't give him a hard time and went toward the theater with the oversized garbage can in tow. Since none of our movies were ever even halfway full, most of the "mess" was always concentrated in the same spot, and it rarely consisted of more than stray pieces of popcorn and plastic water bottles. Some days, if I was lucky, I'd find money tucked in-between the seats. But that was really rare. Most of our customers were tighter than a virgin on Sunday.

Just as I suspected, all I managed to earn were a few water bottles that I could take down to the Recycle & Reuse if I was that hard up.

After I'd done a mediocre job, which was better than I usually did, I parked the trash can in the hallway until I'd need it again after the next showing and went to find out what else Edward wanted me to do. I was hopeful that he'd give me a hint about why I needed the sex toy, but as soon as he saw me coming toward him, he put his head down and pointed toward the concession area.

"We need more popcorn," he said.

"Hm," I mused. I'd never actually seen the popcorn get low before. I assumed that it was just leftover from the previous day until it was all used up (at least that's how it tasted), but it was possible that Edward popped it each afternoon before my shift started. "Should I know how to do that?" I asked.

Edward rolled his eyes, as if I put him out so much. God forbid I ask him something _relevant_ to doing my fucking job. If he'd trained me like he was supposed to in the first place, I'd know all this shit by now. But of course, since I was trying to keep my job and all, I didn't point that out. Instead, I just stood by like I had an iota of interest in the grease machine that doubled as a popcorn popper and nodded like I was listening to what Edward was saying.

"Lift up the lid and turn the switch to 'pop'," his tone dripped with boredom as he demonstrated the steps for me. "Just let the stirrer run like that while it's heating up."

During the two minutes it took for the machine to warm up, I allowed my mind to acknowledge the fact that Edward had a nice voice. I looked him up and down, trying to find something else nice about him. There wasn't much. He did have on an expensive looking pair of all black leather All Star boots, though. Those were nice.

My eyes kept traveling upward, looking for something else to admire so that every waking thought about this guy wasn't something negative.

I glanced over his black pants and noticed they looked sort of dingy. They also did nothing to accentuate his long, leggy frame and they were so baggy that they made his butt look like it belonged on the body of one of the 90-year-old men that frequented Silver Senior Saturday.

I couldn't see his arms because he always wore an oversized black hoodie with sleeves that hung down over his wrists.

He had nice hands though. They looked smooth and were surprisingly very clean for guy's hands – almost as if they'd been professionally manicured.

An odd drum of Edward's fingers sent my eyes spiraling upwards, and sure enough, he was staring at me with the one eye that his shaggy swathe of hair didn't quite cover. It was quite green – or verdant, as my PSAT study guide would point out.

Nice.

"Okay, so the oil is hot now so, just fill this up with oil," he held up a small dipper, "and put this cup of popcorn kernels in and then close the lid. It'll start popping after a minute. That's pretty much all there is to it. Do you think you got it, or do I need to write it down?"

Oh, there he is. For a minute there I thought the asshole had left the building.

Edward's open and inviting attitude toward me (not) made any and all attempts at conversation completely futile. It was obvious that he was making sure I didn't talk to him, more so than usual, so by the end of the night I'd come to the conclusion that he'd changed his mind about whatever he'd planned and didn't want to deal with explaining it to me.

Whatever.

As long as he didn't bring up firing my ass again, I was cool.

The last thing I always did before I ended my shift was put the garbage in the dumpster out back. Now, I know that women want to be treated equal and all that shit, but I really would prefer if I could call "girl" and get out of dumping trash. The strip mall's dumping area smells like rotting corpses and it's really dark. It scared the crap out of me every time I went out there.

So I _really_ didn't appreciate it when Edward suddenly appeared out of thin air as I was walking toward the back door of the theater.

"Shit!" I screamed at him when he stepped out of the darkness. "What the fuck, Edward? You scared me to death!"

He looked at me as if I was the odd one; as if it was totally normal for him to be lurking in the shadows in the back alley behind the movie theater.

"Um…," he hesitated a moment in front of me. "So, your shift's over."

It wasn't really a question, but I answered him anyway. "Yeah."

"Can you hang out for a half hour or do you need to go?"

Curiosity was now sufficiently piqued. "I can hang out. Why?"

Edward looked down at the ground as he spoke. "We had a deal. Or had you forgotten?"

"No, I didn't forget," I assured him. "But I thought you did because of the way you were acting."

Edward opened and shut his mouth a few times, like what he had to say was so difficult. Finally he settled on, "Meet me at my car in ten minutes."

"Which one's your car?" I asked. It wasn't like the parking lot was ever full when I left work at night, but there were usually more than a handful of cars and I didn't know what Edward drove.

"The black Cadillac toward the back of the lot."

I almost laughed when Edward said he drove a black Cadillac. He drove a Cadillac and worked at the Silver Screen, which is what our theater was nicknamed since we serviced mainly the senior crowd. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was trying to land himself an older woman.

Yeah, I almost laughed at the Cadillac…until I saw it.

"This is _your_ car?" I asked him when he showed up seven minutes later.

When he said Cadillac, I expected some extra long, gas-guzzling machine from the seventies. But the car in front of me was sleek and sporty looking; and it looked like it cost more than an entire fleet of my car.

"Yeah," Edward answered quietly as he pressed a button on his keychain and unlocked his doors. An overhead light illuminated the smooth camel leather seats and the immaculate interior of the vehicle.

"Seriously?" I asked in disbelief. "Who'd you have to knock off to get this?"

Edward turned toward me abruptly and frowned. "My grandmother died last year and she left me her car."

My eyes grew wide when I realized that he wasn't telling a joke. Edward never joked.

"Sorry," I said lamely.

He shrugged and started to open the front passenger side door for me when he turned and assessed what I was wearing. Suddenly he shifted to the back door, opened it and motioned for me to get in quickly.

"W-what's going on?" I asked nervously. I couldn't help remembering the devil worshipper comment and wondered if I was about to be sacrificed or some shit.

"We have an agreement. I did something for you by not telling my aunt that you were stealing and now you're going to do something for me," Edward said cryptically as he climbed into the backseat with me. He started fiddling with his backpack and I'm not going to pretend I was brave and didn't flinch when he pulled his hand out. In it he held that recorder thing, but I couldn't tell what it was at first. I still had that sacrifice scene on my mind.

"You're not videotaping anything are you?" I asked. That broke one of my rules.

"No. I just need the audio."

"Of?"

"Of you," Edward paused, and then added, "cumming."

Okay, this is _not_ the part where I got all bashful and pretended to be shocked that Edward expected me to cum in front of him. No, this is the part where I started slipping off my shoes in preparation of taking of my pants, because this mother-fucker just said that I was going to get to cum and that shit hadn't happened, without my assistance, for way too long.

"I'm just using the vibe, right?" _Translation: my vag is going nowhere near that demon dick of yours._

Edward's ensuing glare was so vibrant that it seemed to light up the car. I knew I hadn't accidentally said the demon dick comment out loud, but then he insulted me and revealed that he knew what I was insinuating.

"If I wanted a disease, I'd take a trip to a third world country," he snipped.

"Fuck you."

"Hey, you're the one who said you had syphilis."

"Stop being a shithead, Edward," _and prolonging my fix._ "You know I don't have any fucking disease."

"All I know is what you told me," he sighed with disinterest. "Can I have the vibrator?"

I was wary of allowing someone to go near my most prized body part with an electronic device when I wasn't convinced of their skill with said device. Sure, any monkey could press an on/off switch, but if Edward didn't know anything about how firm or soft to press, how far was too far or when to say when, he could do some serious damage to my love-me-tenders.

"Do you know how this works?" I asked as I held it out to him. He made a point of reaching around it and grabbing the handle by the tips of his fingers.

"Is this clean?" he asked me.

"Yes, it's clean." _Moron._ "Do you know how to work it?"

Instead of answer me, Edward pushed a few buttons and things began to shimmy, rotate and light up.

"Rabbit. Good. Batteries are good," he muttered. Then he turned and looked at me. "This isn't really going to work if you keep your pants on."

I took off my pants and underwear, but that's all because it was damn cold. Edward probably had the same thought at the same time, because he reached over the front seat and started up the car so that he could turn on the heater. Then he cracked opened the two front windows.

"What the hell? It's fucking freezing," I complained.

"I turned on the heater," he shrugged. "I don't want my car smelling like pussy."

"Shut up. I don't smell."

"All pussy smells. It's just a fact of life."

"Maybe it's a fact with the skanks you're used to fucking around with, but not with me."

"Whatever." His eyes were on his little recorder as he set it up to record what was about to happen. "Okay, just act natural and we can get this over with real fast."

"Famous last words," I muttered to myself as I tried my hardest not to look like I was naked from the waist down in the back of a Cadillac with a guy who was probably capable of slicing my clit off and eating it with some fava beans and a bottle of Chianti.

Since I hadn't actually read the handbook on How to Get Banged by a Dildo in the Back of a Psycho's Car, I looked at Edward awkwardly, not knowing what to do with myself. He motioned for me to turn around with my back facing him, and when I did so, he grabbed me underneath my arms. In one fell swoop, I was reclining against him in nothing more than my theater shirt and bobby socks.

Sexy.

I felt rigid as I leaned up against Edward, not wanting any more of my body touching him than necessary. Suddenly, this seemed like a very bad idea and I was sure I wouldn't even be able to get off because I was so uncomfortable.

But then I remembered my job, and the fact that I'd have to listen to another one of my mother's lectures if I got fired. And I wasn't even really doing anything worthy of the title of white trash she'd given me. I had found a creative way to solve my problem while having my needs met at the same time - without having sex.

Go me.

It was a good thing I finished my silent pep talk when I did because Edward didn't even give me any warning before he fired up the vibrator. He just turned it on and started coming at me with it.

_You have got to be kidding me. _I wanted to yell that so bad. Edward did not know the first thing about using a vibrator. First, he was barely touching me with it, and second, he was touching me in all the wrong places.

He ghosted the machine over the underside of my right leg, then my left one, before he swept across the inside of my thigh and hovered the vibrating head at the crease below my hip.

I might have shivered a little bit. It was probably that ice cold air seeping through the windows…

I was so focused on what Edward was _not_ doing with the vibrator that when his free hand crept up my right leg and came to rest softly on my knee, I almost jumped out of my skin.

"Relax," he commanded.

I rolled my eyes even though he couldn't see me. Did he think he was dealing with an amateur here? Guys told virgins to relax. I didn't need him to tell me to relax. I needed him to stop fucking around and rubbing on my spleen and rub on something that actually mattered.

I watched as Edward moved the instrument over my stomach, the pattern of the light from the moon seeming to follow his hand. The slight prickling that lay in the wake of his motions tickled me and I couldn't help giggling a little. I hated the sound immediately and wondered if it made me sound weak and immature.

But the resonance had no effect on Edward. He was stone silent behind me and focused on the slow, incremental movements he was making toward the area between my legs.

My stomach restricted instinctually as the vibrator's quivering "ears" pulsated beneath my navel…

"Mmmm," I moaned at the sheer expectation of what was to come.

"You like that?"

It was the sound of wind floating through the leaves on a warm August evening; the sound of dripping summer rain pelting against the hot, scorching street; the sound of just-licked lips sliding over salty flesh…

It was the sound of sex, and it was emanating from Edward's mouth with every syllable he gifted upon my ear.

"Mmm yeah." I couldn't help it. I didn't want to, but I responded like some cheap actress in a low-budget soap opera.

And it wasn't just my mouth that was responding. I felt like a contortionist – my body moving of its own will to predict Edward's movements. I was completely leaned up against him now, my forehead pressed against the warm skin of his neck. I faintly recognized the scent of artificially buttered popcorn and fabric softener.

Then suddenly Edward's fingers were on me, peeling me apart like a sacred book.

It felt like forever – him holding me open, with the whirring tool singing in the background, teasing me until I was running like a faucet.

"C'mon." In my head, it sounded like an impatient complaint; the demand of someone who was bored and way past the dramatics. But in my ears, I heard the voice of lust and need…and pleading.

"You want it?" the low baritone of sex asked.

"Yeah," the wimpy, needy girl replied. But I swear I draw the line at begging.

..

Edward's fingers slid in a v-formation up and down the sides of my clit with a merciless slowness. _Up…down…up….down…..up….down…._

I could feel the tremor of my vibrator as Edward held it within millimeters of my pussy for an inhumane period of time. Was this the punishment for the five-finger-discount on the candy? Was he going to hold me here, on the brink of being touched and titillated? Was the mere knowledge of how powerfully my body could react if he'd just touch me the restitution for my crime?

"Edwar-"

"Don't say my name," he uttered harshly. Gone was the sexy honeyed accent that had fondled my ear minutes before. Now he just sounded like…Edward.

"Well what the hell am I supposed to call you?" I asked, indignant that I was still just sitting there without my jollies.

"Nothing," he hissed.

At the reminder that I was, in fact, in the hands of the Son of Satan, I stiffened. My body took the cue from my lack of ease and I could feel myself drying up faster than a prostitute at a prayer meeting.

Awkwardness followed, and after a few seconds of just sitting there, Edward switched off the vibrator. I was sure he was going to call it a night, because that had been my luck lately, when he started rubbing both of his hands up and down my thighs.

"You're so soft," he said quietly.

_Yeah. I'd heard that before. I'm soft. I'm hot. I'm wet. Blah, blah fuckin' blah. _Well I can certainly tell you what I'm _not _right now. Cumming.

Edward's hands continued to roam up my legs, across my hips, over my ass…it was a circuit he repeated a few times before he decided to talk to me again in that sexy voice.

"It's sort of a contradiction, isn't it? How soft you are?" he crooned. "Because I bet you hate soft…I bet you like it hard and rough."

Suddenly his hands started to mimic his words and he grabbed a fistful of my thigh forcefully before pinching the sensitive flesh at the crook of my pelvis.

I wanted to yell 'ow!', only I couldn't, because for a momentary second, he finally got it right and touched me. The tip of his finger struck my clit with quick determination, as if it were a key on an ancient typewriter.

Instantly I was wetter than I'd been all night. I waited for more of his touch, but instead…

_Slap! Slap! Slap!_ His fingers came down hard and firm against my pussy and my body struggled to define the dichotomy of sensations – the pleasure and the pain. I didn't know if the ensuing ache was from his strike or my need for more of it.

"You like that, don't you?"

But I didn't have a chance to answer before his question was followed by another succession of blows between my legs.

I wanted to hate it. I wanted to tell him to knock it off and get back to what we'd agreed upon. I wanted to remind him that I'd never said he could put his hands on me. I wanted to tell him I felt violated.

But I couldn't say any of those things for two reasons. First, because even _I'm_ not that big a liar, and second, the XXX moans that were pouring out of my mouth totally prohibited the formation of any coherent words.

"Does it feel good?" his voice slithered against my ear as he pulled back my pussy lips and flicked the vulnerable nub hiding just underneath.

Just as I was deciphering the pleasure from that move, Edward's hands stilled and I was left heaving and panting and waiting for more.

My stomach was a series of tight knots and my legs and ass ached with the pain of unclenched nerves. My pussy yearned for intense, prolonged, direct stimulation. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold on…

And then I did it; exactly what I said I wouldn't do.

"Please," I murmured lowly, embarrassed at what I'd been rendered to do.

"Please what?"

"C'mon, Ed-…c'mon…please."

"What?" Edward acted as if he had no knowledge of what I needed from him. Even before he spoke his next words, I knew what he was going to say. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you to make me cum," I begged. I hid my eyes against his collar as I spoke, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing the desire on my face.

Unexpectedly, the sting of an army of angry bees and the whirring of a hundred hummingbirds assaulted my clit as Edward held the vibrator against me at its most powerful speed.

"Oh! Aaahh! Uuoohh!" I cried.

"Is this what you wanted?" Edward managed between the bleating and bucking against his hand. "Huh? Is it?"

"Ooh…yeah…" And then a string of expletives rolled off my tongue with less effort than it took to breathe.

"Fuck, yeah…ooo motherfucking ffuuckk….oh, shit yeah….Oh…Fuck yeah…fuckin' FUCK…YE-AH…OHHH!…FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCKIN' FUUCCKK MMME!"

I felt myself latch on to Edward's hair and pull against the waves of heat that rolled over my scalp and down my neck, igniting my nipples and gripping my stomach as my orgasm forced me out of my euphoric suffering.

I collapsed against Edward, totally dependent upon him to hold me upright. I was like a near-drowned diver washed ashore and struggling to catch her breath.

But Edward had no patience for my respite (another PSAT vocabulary word) needs. He shrugged me off, grabbed his recorder and checked on what he'd documented with it.

When I heard the sounds I'd made played back through that little device, I expected to be disturbed in much the same way I was when I heard my voice played back on the answering machine at home. I never thought it sounded like me.

Nor did Edward's recording sound like me, but in this case, it wasn't a bad thing. I actually wanted him to keep playing it so that I could listen – so that I could remember all the delicious things he'd done to my body to make me sound that way.

"Alright, I have to go. That took longer than it should have," Edward grumped in his regular voice. Then he proceeded to move into the front seat without any grace for the fact that a half naked girl was still recuperating in his backseat.

I quickly pulled my clothes back on and stole a glance at the clock on the dashboard. I should have been home a long time ago. Fortunately my mother hadn't called.

Of course, as soon as I had that thought, my cell phone rang.

"It's probably my mother," I said, though I wasn't really sure why I said it. I wasn't really talking to Edward.

He turned and looked at me guardedly. "This never happened."

_Who did this mother-fucker think he was?_ Like girls were going to be lining up at my locker to hear how some circus freak reject got me off in the back of his dead grandmother's car?

"You just make sure _you_ remember that," I told him snidely.

But Edward wasn't fazed by my comment. Instead, he pointed directly at my phone and then looked at me with a hardened expression on his face.

"Your mom. Don't tell her-"

"You're kidding, right? You think I'm going to tell my mother why I'm late getting home?"

"As far as tonight goes, this dies with you and me. You paid me back and I won't say shit to my aunt. Got it?"

"Okay, clearly you have no self-awareness if you think that I'm anxious to-"

"Just get out."

"You're going to die alone, bent over, trying to suck your own dick. You know that, don't you?" Of course I waited until after I was out of his car to say that.

I tossed him the finger over my shoulder as I walked to my car, not quite sure how to process what had just happened. I'd participated in many fuck-and-runs over the years and a few fuck-and-sprints, but never had I been with a guy who only wanted to get me off and wanted nothing for himself in return.

I was still pondering the oddity of it all as I neared my car. It was then that I realized Edward was long gone – not even a hint of his taillights in the distance.

"Fuckin' weirdo." I mean, the least he could have done was waited until I got to my car safely before he drove off. It was common courtesy.

But then, there was nothing common or courteous about Edward. In fact, he was the polar opposite of both of those words. He was…I gave up after a few seconds of trying to come up with a definition for him.

"Oh well." I chalked my experience up as a one-hit-wonder and set my mind on erasing what had happed that night from my memory. After all, it was never going to happen again.


	7. Chapter 7

I know body language really well. For instance, when a guy you've recently hooked up with walks with his shoulders hunched over and avoids eye contact – that means he's aware that he was a bad lay and he won't tell anyone if you don't.

If a guy stares at you only when he thinks you're not looking, it means that you were more than he was expecting and he might be up for it again.

If he stares at you constantly and smiles when you catch his eye, he definitely wants some more of that and he will be seeking you out at his earliest convenience.

If he stares at you constantly, unblinking, and he _doesn't_ smile when you catch his eye, it means that you're the only human who has ever ventured near and he now has a shrine to you, complete with a clump of your hair, in his closet. _Run_!

Fortunately for me, Edward did none of these things. Yes, it is fortunate because it means that he isn't into me and I'm certainly not into him. It doesn't offend me in the least that he still walks around the school campus as if I'm just as invisible as everyone else, nor do I care that my shifts at the theater barely overlap his anymore. All I care about is that I didn't get fired, and all Edward apparently cares about is that he got to record the sounds I make when I'm getting off, which is actually quite creepy so I'm trying not to think about it too much.

Another thing that was fortunate in my life was that because of my work schedule, I didn't have to go see Sheila, my counselor, so much. It was actually my mother's idea. She said that even though I was working to pay for the privilege of driving, she did want to reward my show of responsibility. Dude, I don't care if it was something she read in the latest issue of Psychology Today; I'm just happy not to have to have to go to the counseling center on my days off from the theater. I need a break from all that shit.

And after lying on my bed for a full twenty minutes trying to figure out what to do, I realized that I needed a friend, too.

"I hate this town," I muttered aloud as I sat up with discontent. I grabbed my jacket and headed out the door, tossing an uneventful, "I'm going for a walk," over my shoulder to my mother. If she had a problem with it, I didn't give her a chance to tell me so.

Going for a walk was something I hadn't done for a long time. Actually, doing exactly what I told my mother I was doing _and_ going for a walk was something I hadn't done in a long time, and five seconds after I walked out the front door, I remembered why.

Forks is fucking ugly. Seriously, it's like all the cities got together and dumped the worst of their zip codes here. There's not even a word to describe what's so fucked up about it. It's not old, it's not dumpy, it's not rundown. It's just… yeah, like I said, no word.

After about one solid minute of walking, I made a complete u-turn and went straight back home. I was so bored that I actually did my Physics homework. I know - I was shocked, too.

By the next day I was almost looking forward to going to school just because I would have something else to look at besides my four bedroom walls. I mean, you know it's bad when you practically watch an entire episode of Jersey Shore.

"You know of any parties or anything that are coming up?" I asked Alice as soon as I spotted her. We hadn't gotten to the point where I could phone her for a chat, but I also no longer had to pretend to cross her path just to have a conversation with her.

"Social calendar on the decline?" Alice asked.

"It flat-lined long ago," I said.

"Sorry, kiddo. I'm of no help. I haven't been to a party since 1993."

"Were you even alive in 1993?"

"Conceived. At a party."

"Ugh. Do not want to think about old people having sex, thankyouverymuch."

"My parents were seventeen when I was born, thankyouverymuch."

"Wow," I said with renewed interest. "So, they must be, what, the coolest parents on the planet?"

"Well, my dad might make it out of rehab sometime in the next ten years and my mom is working on finding herself before she's worthy of me. So far, she's found herself with her new boyfriend in New Mexico." Alice looked fleetingly in my direction. "I live with my grandma."

"Oh. Sorry, Alice. I didn't know."

"How could you have? Anyway, don't feel bad. I'm much better off. Trust me."

"Anyway, we should hang out sometime," I said to change the subject. "You should come by the Silver Screen and we can torment Edward by looking at him."

Alice smiled. "Yeah, maybe."

"I'm working tonight," I hinted.

"Uh…I can't tonight." I looked up to see Alice's eyes firmly planted across the quad, on the curly-haired blonde guy who was overtly staring right back at her. I'd definitely have to get the details on those two later.

"Yeah. It's a school night…" I said, giving her an excuse, though I think it was more for my benefit than hers. I don't like rejection.

I went back to living in the shadow of normalcy for the remainder of the day, taking only a moment to revel in the finding of _one_ guy in this entire hell hole that I might consider making a go for. His name was Randy and from what I could gather, he was on the football team. Since he was semi-decent looking, there were about four other girls standing in line to get his attention, but I figured I could certainly cut in front of all of them the second I told him I just wanted to fuck him. Because seriously, that's all I wanted to do.

But I had to go to work before I had a chance to see Randy, so I had to save the 'how-do-you-do-can-I-fuck-you' for another day.

I was surprised to see Edward's car in the parking lot when I pulled up. We hadn't worked together in almost two weeks. I was a little miffed that he was avoiding me, if I'm being honest. I'm usually the one that does the avoiding. I mean, look at him! It can't be often that he gets _that close_ to pussy and he has the nerve to avoid _me?_ Just the thought of it infuriated me and I acted like he was invisible my entire shift.

After I'd finished my full four hours, managing only to speak to Edward a handful of times and only when absolutely necessary, I ventured to the back to finish up my homework before I made the trek home. Now, before you go all bat-shit on me, I have my reasons for doing this Physics assignment. First, Mr. Hearn (Physics teacher; see chapter 2), was so surprised that I'd completed the previous night's assignment that he'd given me full credit and written me a little note telling me that I did a good job. And second, I didn't even know we got credit for doing homework. I totally might be able to raise my grade and quit this shitty ass job.

Anyway, there was no way I was going to do homework after driving all the way home, so I sat at the little table in the hallway and tried to get through it as fast as I could. I was temporarily distracted by Edward's laptop computer that sat open to my left. I'd much rather surf the 'net than do homework. Maybe I could Google the assignment and find the answers quickly…

With the speed of lightening, I glanced over and made sure the coast was clear before I grabbed Edward computer and woke it up from its hibernating state.

I gasped aloud at what I saw.

It wasn't just that it was pornography. I've seen more porn than a dorm room mattress. No, it was the professional graphics – seedy but artfully done. It was the title banner: "Sounds of Sex" that capped off a portfolio of men and women in positions I didn't even know were possible, accessorized by the hardcore sounds of fucking. And to the right, was an in-progress style sheet.

Our own Devil Dude Cullen was a porn site builder that Bill Gates himself would envy.

"Hey! Get away from that!"

Suddenly Edward came out of nowhere and snatched his laptop away from me.

"Get your fuckin' hands off my shit!" he yelled.

I figured he was probably embarrassed that I knew he was into porn. I don't know why people have that immediate reaction about being discovered with porn. Aren't all guys into porn?

I ignored Edward's little hissy fit and watched as he quickly saved his work before shutting down his computer.

"Do you charge on your site?" I asked.

He completely ignored me, so I tried another angle.

"You know, you'd probably get more hits if you broke those sounds up into categories."

Edward continued to pack his computer away, but his eyes momentarily slid over in my direction. Still, he didn't say anything and he took himself and his computer back out to the ticket counter. I finished up my homework and then gathered my things to leave. I didn't bother saying anything to Edward as I headed for the front door.

"You did the homework wrong," he said without looking up as I passed him.

"What?" I paused, sure that I hadn't heard him correctly.

"You determined the post-collision velocity of the wrong car."

I rolled my eyes. "What about me makes you think I care that I did my homework wrong?"

"You've been here for over an hour doing your homework when you could have been doing anything else."

_Except getting laid, apparently._

He had a point, but I wasn't going to explain my reasoning for getting my homework done. I didn't want him to think we'd be study buddies or anything. I simply shrugged and headed out the door. I waited until I was in my car before I pulled out my homework and checked my answer.

"Shit," I muttered. That fucker was right. Out of spite I wanted to ignore this new found information and just let the problem be wrong, but even I was smart enough to know that I needed all the help I could get in this class and if all I needed to do was switch some numbers around, then I might as well get it done.

I went to sleep that night fantasizing about Randy and the things I'd like to do with and to him if I ever got the opportunity. I didn't allow my mind to wander too much, however. I've found that when I spend too much time plotting my next conquest, I'm usually disappointed. I'd hate to invest a shitload of time only to find out that Randy was hung like a light switch.

Two days later, I still hadn't found out what Randy looked like without his pants on, but I did get a strange call from Edward telling me that my shift had been changed from Thursday to Friday. I wanted to be pissed about having to work a Friday night but who was I kidding? I lived in Forks and evidently my high school was too cool for anyone to have an actual fucking party.

When I got to work I wasn't surprised to see that I was working with Edward, since he's the one that called me in the first place, but I wasn't expecting to see a lady named Denise standing at the concession counter. So far she'd only been a penciled in name on the schedule since her shift usually ended before mine ever started. She looked like she was close to my mom's age and she made it abundantly clear that she didn't really want to have anything to do with me. She was kind of cold to Edward, too, but since he wore that assistant manager title, she kind of had to treat him like a human.

Denise left an hour after I arrived and in that time Edward hadn't bothered to say a word to me. There was no telling me to clean up shitty bathrooms, fluff up stale popcorn or clean out the under-occupied theater. He completely left me alone…

…until halfway through my shift when I was taking my measly ten-minute break.

I was sitting in a hard plastic chair in the hallway lazily reading the poster on the wall that announced the minimum amount I should be paid an hour when I noticed Edward quietly enter the narrow area. I kept a lookout out of the corner of my eye because I didn't trust him at all.

His over-exaggerated attention to the same poster I'd been staring at for the past five minutes tipped me off that he was probably thinking of a way to word whatever it was he had to say. I smirked to myself, knowing that he probably wanted a repeat of our first and only encounter.

I wasn't quite sure how I felt about another hook-up with Edward. On the one hand, I didn't have anything better to do, but on the other hand, I'd said that it'd never happen again because…well, because it was Edward. Nonetheless, I counted the number of seconds it would take for him to actually speak to me about something other than work.

Seventeen.

"What you said the other day," he began without looking at me. "What did you mean?"

"About what?" I searched my mind to remember all the things I'd said to him this week. Surely he wasn't asking about the lemon scented cleanser that I told him smelled like rotten cheese.

"The site."

"Oh. I asked if you charged."

Edward shook his head in agitation. "Not about that. About the…categories."

"Ah," I said, suddenly enlightened. "Well, I didn't get a good look at your website," I hinted, "but is that all it is? Sex sounds?"

Edward misunderstood my question and became defensive at the misinterpreted criticism.

"Just so you know, those _sounds_ get a shitload of hits. I have advertisers begging me to put links on my site."

"Hmph," I snorted. Thank goodness he had a _porn_ site or this conversation would have been too Freaks 'n Geeks for me. "How much do you make?"

Edward refused to answer my question, but instead restated his earlier inquiry. "You think it'd be better if people could pick like teen sounds or blonde or something like that?"

_Thank you, Edward, for reminding me that you're a guy. If there was any doubt that you were heterosexual, you've just dispelled it._

"I meant more like the act that created the sound. You know – like head or doggy-style."

It was weird having this conversation with someone who was as nonchalant as if he were discussing the weather. He didn't turn red or grin or act bashful at my words at all. He just stared at some spot on the wall just above my head as if he were watching numbers grow exponentially.

"Hmm…a G-spot orgasm would probably draw a lot of people," he said more to himself than to me.

I couldn't help the chortle that escaped. "No one is going to pay for that. Everyone knows the G-spot is a myth made up to make women feel inadequate so they can't blame men for how lame they are in bed."

"Who told you that? Your fuckin' Sunday school teacher?"

"I'm a girl. I think I know what body parts I have."

"You have a G-spot."

"I don't."

"Well then you're defective – which doesn't surprise me."

"Let me guess, you're single?"

"And from the looks of the cobwebs I pulled out of your pussy, so are you."

"Fuck you."

"And deprive you of some of the income you receive from your regular customers? I couldn't."

"You just contradicted yourself, you idiot."

"Just because you have regular customers doesn't mean you're active. I mean, you work here, don't you?"

"Are you telling my story or your own?"

Edward just glared at me. Or, at least I think he was glaring; it might just be the regular way he looks at people. Anyway, if he thought he was going to get the last word in, he was sadly mistaken. I could go all night. _Pun intended._

He didn't ask me anything more about whatever it was he'd wanted and instead shuffled off like Gollum, back to his post. He avoided me like the plague for the rest of the night, and that was just fine with me.

Until I went out to my car when it was time to go home, only to find out that it wouldn't start.

"Shit!" I yelled as I kicked the tire. "This is great. Just great!"

And to make matters worse, Edward appeared at that moment and without so much as a glance in my direction, he traipsed off to his old-person car and climbed in, no doubt to sit his ass on heated seats.

I watched with disdain as Edward's car lit up when he pressed the button to unlock it. I stood by silently raging as he calmly stepped into his vehicle and sat cradled by his leather interior.

And then I looked around and realized that in a matter of seconds I'd be stuck by myself in the dark in a town too far from home to walk.

"Edward!" I hollered across the parking lot.

I saw him jump at the shrillness of my voice, but when he saw me jogging toward him, he tried to act like it was an everyday occurrence for women to call his name and run _toward_ him.

"My car won't start," I said, gasping for breath, once I was next to his open door.

"So?"

"So can you help me?"

"What do I look like, a fuckin' mechanic?"

"No, but you don't look like the kind of cold-hearted bastard that would leave a girl stranded out here in the dark either." It wasn't a totally lie. After all, I'd said he didn't look like a _cold-hearted _bastard_._ I didn't say heartless bastard.

Edward turned and looked over his shoulder to where my car sat lonely and unmoving.

"You run out of gas or something?"

I was embarrassed to admit that I had. The gas light had barely just come on and I'd needed to get to work. I was hoping that I'd make it early enough to pick up my check, take it to the grocery store to cash and then get gas, but things didn't work out that way. I'd barely made it to work on time and after I'd finally put my stuff away and clocked in, I'd forgotten all about my gas tank.

"I think so," I downplayed my dilemma.

"Do you have a gas can?"

Reluctantly I shook my head that I did not.

Edward exaggerated his sigh. "Well they're gonna charge you an arm and a leg for one at the gas station. Hope you have enough for that and gas."

"Yeah, see…here's the thing…"

"I know you're not gonna tell me that you don't have any money."

"Well you didn't give me my check in time so I couldn't go to the grocery store to cash it because I had to start my shift and-"

"So this is my fault?"

I saw the thin line I was walking between being stranded and getting to the gas station, so I abandoned the accusatory route.

"I'll pay you back," I said instead.

"I'm not buying your gas," Edward nearly laughed at me.

I straightened up and took another look at my car. I wasn't sure how comfortable I felt about leaving it overnight in the parking lot, but if I didn't have any other choice…

"Well…how close to Forks are you?"

"I'm not driving your ass all the way to Forks either."

"Well what the hell, Edward?" I cried in exasperation.

Edward sat quietly and stared straight ahead out the windshield of his car. I thought he was going to wait me out, hoping I'd take a hint and leave, but then I heard the eerie tremor of his voice.

"So, if I take you to the gas station, and get you gas, what are you going to do for me?"

The breath of air I huffed into the coldness momentarily circled around me in steamy tendrils before it disappeared.

"What do you want, Edward?" I was tired, hungry and beyond annoyed. I didn't have time for his games.

If I'd thought I was unprepared for the eerie sound of his voice, I was even less ready for the Charlie-ala-golden-ticket grin that lit up his face. If he wasn't getting on my nerves so badly I might have noted how nice his smile was.

"So all I have to do is take you to the gas station and get you gas?" he asked.

"And I'll pay you back as soon as I cash my check." _What was the big deal?_

"And what else?" He peered up at me with the one eye not covered by his hair.

_What else?_ And then I remembered, asking anything of Edward was like making a deal with the devil.

"I'm not going to fuck you, Edward."

"Oh wow. Two favors for the price of one."

"Can you just tell me what you want already? It's cold out here."

Edward reached into his pocket and pulled out his small recorder. I was intrigued by the notion of what he was insinuating, so I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

"Another recording?" I asked.

"Yep." Edward turned and looked in his back seat, and then out his back window toward my car. "We'll have to do it in your car though. I don't want to mess up my interior."

"Mess up your interior?" _What the hell did this guy have in mind?_

Without an explanation, Edward leapt out of his car with his recorder in hand and started walking toward mine.

"Can't we go get the gas first?"

Edward let out a maniacal laugh. "Do I look like the world's biggest fool to you?"

_Don't answer that truthfully. Stranded, remember?_

"I'm not gonna rip you off. I'll do my part…wait, what exactly am I doing?"

Edward was halfway to my car by this time.

"You could have at least driven us over, sheesh," I complained once I'd caught up to him. Now after we'd done whatever we were about to do, I'd have to walk across the parking lot with him _and_ drive to the gas station and back. Just a little awkward.

"It'll look like a drug deal if I park next to you and we're just sitting in the car. Cops are always looking for that shit," Edward said.

He had a point and now I wanted to know if he'd come to this knowledge from personal experience.

"You have cloth interior?" Edward frowned when I'd opened up my car door.

"We can't _all_ have rich grandmothers," I told him.

"Well do you have a blanket or something?" he ignored my comment.

"Nah. But that's the cool thing about cloth seats. They're warmer."

Amusement lit up Edward's features, as if he were mocking me for missing a blindingly obvious point.

"After you," he gestured toward the back seat after he'd opened the door.

I slid in and sat with my arms crossed against my chest – a little worried and a lot excited about what I was about to get myself into.

"You're not on the rag or anything are you?" Edward asked as he fiddled with his recorder.

My eyes rolled of their own accord. "I don't have periods."

Usually when I tell this to a guy, he looks at me like he's just hit the mother lode and the Mega Millions all in one. Funny how guys never ask me _why_ I don't have periods. There could be something wrong with me – something contagious. But they just paw at me, excited to know that I'm like a 7-11: open 24/7.

Edward, however, did not look at all impressed by my revelation. Nor did he look excited. Perhaps it was because he had no intention of having sex with me. Or maybe…

"You're on the pill then?" he asked with disinterest.

...he just knew my secret.

Just for the record, I don't like it when guys know too much about the inner-workings of females. It just doesn't seem right somehow.

"Yeah," I answered nonetheless.

Edward positioned his recorder on the console between my seats and then sat stoically beside me for a few beats. Then his head swiveled toward me, almost mechanically.

"You gonna take your pants off or are we just gonna sit here and share air all night?"

"You act like I know what you have planned."

"Same as last time. You're gonna cum and I'm gonna record it. Don't play dumb. It's unbecoming."

Every time this fucker opened his mouth, I hated him just a little bit more. But my lady-bits were rapt with attention, so I didn't hesitate any longer and pulled off my pants and underwear.

Edward tapped a button on his recorder before sliding me closer by pulling one of my thighs toward him. He didn't even try to hide the fact that he was openly staring at my pussy.

He licked two of his fingers before sliding them down to my clit – not that I needed the extra lube. I was already wet and I could hear my body praise him, my juices applauding his fingers as it coated them.

I bit down on my lip, not yet ready to allow Edward to verbally hear my gratitude for the little he'd done already. I relaxed and rested my head against the back of my seat. It was then that I noticed the way he was hovering above me, his mouth not too far from my own.

"I'm not kissing you." It was meant to sound like a warning sneer, but he'd started to softly stroke my clit with one finger just as I'd started speaking, so it came out like a sultry plea.

"Make that three favors for the price of one," he retorted. "Now quit talking."

But he didn't quit talking. And his voice had changed into that of fuckable Edward.

After a few moments filled only with the sound of Edward's fingers swirling down, under and across my clit, Edward pushed his two fingers inside me, to which I hummed in appreciation.

"You like that? You like having your pussy finger fucked?" he droned lowly.

I answered with a moan. He must have known I meant yes, because he added a finger. Then he added another finger; all four of his digits were deep inside me while his thumb cascaded over my clit.

"Let me see those tits," he said in a breathy command.

Quickly I pulled up my shirt and bra, exposing my chest to him. But Edward only did as he'd said - he only looked. His hands remained below my waist; one pressing low on my abdomen while the other danced hidden within.

Suddenly Edward's movements changed. The circular rubbing motions shifted into a pulsating jerking.

My leg hitched of its own accord.

"Shit…" I sighed at the overwhelming feeling. _What the heck is he doing down there?_

I pulled at my own nipples, needing more than just thin air pressing against them, but it wasn't enough. Crazed with how good Edward was making me feel, my eyes darted around and landed upon his lips. I silently cursed myself for the memory of telling him not to kiss me, because suddenly I wanted nothing more than those sexy, soft, pouty lips on me.

I reached for him, my hand managing to caress the smooth skin of his neck as I attempted to guide him toward me. Instead of leaning down so I could meet his mouth, Edward quickened is movements in my pussy and a tingling fire washed over me as my lips melded to his neck.

"Fuck!" I screamed against his skin.

"I can't hear you," he taunted me. "I can't hear you tell me you like what I'm doing to your pussy."

"Oooh!"

"You like it. Look at you – look at your tits and your fucking wet pussy. You want this so bad. You want to cum to bad, don't you? Tell me you want to cum. Fuckin' tell me."

I tried to tell him. I did, but how could I be coherent? How could I speak when his hand had found a secret spot, secret even from me; a spot that made my hair sweat, my toes curl, my stomach flutter; a spot that made my entire body freefall for endless minutes.

"OH MY FUU-AAHHH—CCKKING GGAA—AAAHH—WWDD! AAAAHHH!"

I came so hard that I pissed myself. That had _never_ happened before.

"You didn't pee. You squirted," Edward said, unhindered, as I lay slumped against him trying to catch my breath. "That's what happens when you have a G-spot orgasm."

"Fuckin' 'A, Edward," I panted. It was all I could manage.

I watched as he picked up his recorder, rewound a bit and hit play to make sure he'd gotten what he needed. When he was satisfied that he had, he turned off the machine and stuck it in his pocket. He looked completely content to have only an audio memory of our experience with no physical release for himself - but that wasn't okay with me. For the first time since…ever, I _wanted_ to reciprocate.

"Do you want me to do something for you?" I reached over and touched Edward between his legs.

As if stricken by a clenched fist, Edward moved back and pushed my hand off him.

"Knock it off!" he yelled at me.

But it was too late. I'd already felt it.

In Edward's pants there was absolutely nothing.

I was still stunned as I followed him across the parking lot and rode next to him as he carted me to the gas station. I remained wordless as he went inside, bought a small gas can, filled it with ten dollars worth of gas and then stored it in his trunk for the trip back to the parking lot of the theater.

As he climbed back into the car, he inspected himself in the rearview mirror and groaned at what he saw there.

"You gave me a fuckin' hickey!" he complained, and he sounded like he meant it, not at all like he was reluctantly proud of it.

_Okay. Forget what I said before._

Edward was totally gay.


	8. Chapter 8

I knew Alice had known all along about Edward and had chosen not to tell me. For some reason, I felt that was kind of an inconsiderate thing to do. I mean, not that she owed me anything, but come on – girl code? I mean, what if I liked Edward? Which I don't – but let's just say, for point's sake, that I did. How much time could I have wasted thinking about the things he did to my body? The way his voice sounded in my ears? The aftershocks he evoked that seemingly lasted all night…

Yeah, Alice definitely should have told me that Edward was gay. I don't know that it would have changed anything, but a hint would have been nice.

But she wasn't at school on Monday, so I couldn't give her hell for it.

On Monday night I was scheduled to work with Edward and I don't know if he'd realized that I'd figured out what his deal was, but he steered clear of me for most of the evening. I even stood right next to him and openly stared in his direction during my break. I knew he could tell I was there, but he didn't look at me or speak to me. Not even when I handed him the fifteen dollars that I owed him. And not even when I told him that I knew what was up with him.

"Look, you don't have to be all weird and shit around me. I know…ya know, what your story is and everything so, it's not like I want to be with you or anything," I told him.

Nope, not even then did he give me more than a brief sideways glance.

Then I realized that I was probably coming off as this needy little harpy and I backed off completely and left him alone for the rest of the night.

The next day I saw a glimpse of Alice as she walked a few feet ahead of me. I watched as she suddenly looked to her left, as if someone had called her name, and then disappeared behind the science building. I figured that blonde curly-top she was so fond of must have been hiding back there and as soon as I was able, I craned my neck to get a glimpse of them together. She made such a big deal of not interacting with him in public that I was voraciously curious to see what they looked like side-by-side.

No such luck. When I looked in the direction Alice had turned, I was met face to face with the cracking beige paint of the backside of the science wing and not much more.

Not _much_ more, but since it was a rare sunny day, two lean shadows, one dwarfed by the other, revealed that two people were on the far side of the building having some sort of interaction.

I'm not a stalker or anything, so I didn't try to eavesdrop. Besides, curly-top was going off loud enough for me to hear a few bits of what he was saying.

"…fucking say anything!"

"I didn't." That was definitely Alice's voice.

"…not fucking moving again…"

I didn't think curly-top had it in him, but this guy was spitting venom from what I could hear. He sounded pissed. He sounded vile.

He sounded a little like Edward Cullen.

I decided not to let on like I knew Alice's boyfriend had ripped her a new asshole when she came into English class. Instead, I sat behind her trying to reconcile the person I knew her to be with the kind of person who would let any guy, let alone a guy she was interested in, talk to her like she was a second-class citizen.

I waited a few moments for Alice to acknowledge me. I didn't want to pounce on her first thing – especially since it seemed like I wasn't the only one who had an issue with her.

I kicked my backpack underneath my chair and made a loud show of putting my books on my desk, but I could have been invisible for all the attention I seemed to garner from Alice.

"Psst. Hey?" I finally gave in and called to her.

Either she was ignoring me or had an ear infection that prevented her from hearing my voice.

"Alice," I tried again. This time I added a little tap to her shoulder.

She turned toward me long enough for me to see the awesomely lethal expression on her face.

"Whoa. No touching. Got it," I held up my hands in mock surrender.

Nothing more from the angry waif in front of me.

"Hey, Alice?" I whispered to no response.

Okay, clearly I was being ignored.

"Is this the part where I pretend not to know why the fuck you're pissed at me? If it is, than can we just cut to the part where you tell me what the hell your problem is, because I really don't know," I rambled out.

Seriously, I had no clue. I hadn't fucked curly-top – or anybody else for that matter. I hadn't talked shit about Alice; I didn't know any shit _to_ talk about her. The girl was a closed book.

I practiced the patience of a starving lion while I waited for Alice to tell me what was up.

"See, this is why I don't fuckin' hang out with girls. They always pull this monthly bullshit – like half the population doesn't have a fuckin' period. Do yourself a favor: the next time you want a little PMS punching bag, go be a bitch to someone else because-"

"What did you tell Edward I said about him?" Alice turned to face me suddenly. I couldn't tell if she was trying to tell me something or she just wanted to shut me up, but what she asked me made absolutely no sense.

"What?" _Did she just ask me something about the devil worshiper? _

"What the fuck did you tell Edward I said about him?" she asked again.

"I didn't tell him anything. I've never even talked to him about you." _Right? _I couldn't really remember.

Then her words became about as clear as mud. _Alice and Edward_.

Alice and Edward?

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I spit out.

Taken aback by my outburst, Alice straightened up a bit and leaned away so she could see me clearly. "What?" she asked.

"You're fucking Edward?"

Her face contorted into the most grotesque grimace imaginable. "Hell no!"

"Ladies?"

We looked up to see our English teacher eyeing us with a look of irritation on her face. We made all the pretenses of settling down and getting back to work until the old hag stopped paying any attention to us.

"What's this all about, Alice? What did he tell you?" I leaned forward and whispered so that only she could hear.

She leaned back inconspicuously and returned. "What did _you_ tell him?"

I blanched as her words seeped into my consciousness. Edward had told. Even though he'd said that what had happened was just between the two of us.

"God, I'm such an idiot," I muttered to myself.

Why the fuck had I trusted him? What about him made me think he'd keep his word? I had rules, _rules_ that kept me out of these situations! But yet, here I sat, with Alice looking at me like I'd fucked the entire football team.

And I was only partly irritated that out of this entire ordeal, I hadn't had the liberty of fucking or being fucked by anyone.

"Look, it wasn't any big deal. I don't even know why Edward would tell you. It doesn't concern anybody and it's just for his stupid website-"

"What are you talking about?" Alice faltered and spoke in her regular voice.

"What are you talking about?" I countered.

"Alice and Bella! What is so important that you have to continually disrupt my class to discuss it?" The teacher had managed to walk right up to us without our being aware of it.

I was perfectly content to continue our conversation despite the dim-witted teacher's continued attempts to thwart it, but Alice wouldn't comply. Therefore I had to torturously wait until the end of the class to find out what the hell she was going on about.

"So?" I asked Alice as soon as the bell sounded to end the class.

"Edward seems to be under the impression that I told you something about him. He won't tell me what you said and I _can't_ tell him what you said because I have no idea what he's talking about. What did you say to him?" she questioned.

No longer sure that Edward had outed our extracurricular excursions, I racked my brain to think of something I'd said to him, other than the advice I'd given him about his website, that would set him off on Alice.

And then it dawned on me.

_Outed._

"Ooohh," I exhaled slowly as I smirked devilishly at Alice. "I didn't say _you_ told me. I just figured it out on my own."

"Figured what out?" Alice narrowed her eyes at me.

I looked at her with pursed lips, as if to say, 'come on'. "If he didn't want people to know, you'd think he'd hide it better," I rolled my eyes.

Alice was quickly losing her patience with me. She didn't say anything, but she raised her eyebrows at me, encouraging me to go on.

"He's gay."

Alice nearly fell over with the effort of not laughing in my face. "What?" she asked from behind the hand that hid her grin.

Suddenly I was conflicted. Was I wrong, or was Alice trying to trick me out of thinking I knew something that Edward didn't want me to know?

"Oh come on, Alice," I said nonetheless.

"You think Edward is…_gay_?" she asked conspiratorially.

"You have met him, right?" I hinted.

"Hmm…" Alice looked out over the quad contemplatively. Then she glanced over at me, giggled, and took off toward the lockers. "I've gotta go." She laughed again when she had her back to me- though I couldn't tell if it was with me, or at me.

After my short interaction with Alice, I started to doubt my assessment of Edward's sexuality and so I replayed the evidence in my mind:

A porn website that focused more on sounds than sights; no girlfriend; seemingly no interest in having any physical needs met by a female; lack of erection following a fuck-hot romp in the backseat of a car.

_Yeah. He's definitely gay._

Once that mystery was solved, it was time to move on to more important matters, like Randy. I'd caught him looking at me during class…okay, actually, he'd caught _me_ looking at _him_ but when I didn't look away, he kind of gave me this coy grin, which I readily returned.

I fully expected to be fucking him by the week's end.

Therefore, when I went to work the next evening and saw that work was the only thing I'd be fucking doing that weekend, I was pissed.

"What the hell is this?" I asked Edward when I saw my schedule. "Friday, Saturday _and_ Sunday?"

"Yes, those are three days of the week. Very good," Edward said without looking up.

"No shit Sherlock." I slammed my schedule down on the counter in front of him. "Why am I working the entire weekend? Isn't that against the rules?"

"No." Then, in his ever-present condescending tone, he added, "You asked for Thursday off. In order to grant that, people had to be shifted around, which resulted in you having to work on Sunday."

I had never worked on Sunday before. Then I realized that I'd never put any availability down for that day because the theater was supposedly open only six-days per week. "Aren't we closed on Sundays?"

"Sing-A-Long-Sunday. Once a quarter," Edward said, as if that meant something to me.

I had to let my anger drop for a moment so that I could laugh. "Sing-A-Long-Sunday? Are you kidding me?"

"No. My aunt did it once three months ago and it was the first time I've ever seen the theater full. And she's expecting it to be packed on Sunday. We're showing Mama Mia."

"Ugh." I _hate_ that movie.

It hadn't escaped my notice that Edward's explanation of my extra work day resulted in more conversation than we'd had in a long time. In addition, there was a lightness to his tone. He was still an asshole, but there was less edge to his vernacular – almost as if he were amused in some way.

Nevertheless, I didn't press my luck. He wasn't inviting in any way, shape or form, so I didn't try to engage him in any small talk, even though I was curious to know if my suggestions with his web site had panned out.

I made a mental note to sneak into my mother's office and use her laptop to check out his website when I had a few spare moments. My mother's computer was the only one that didn't have parental locks on it in the house, and I'd figured out her password long ago. I'd overheard her spelling it out loud to herself one day as she pecked it out on her keyboard. I had to give it to her, it certainly was random. Good thing I didn't have to guess what it was.

But before I could go on any investigative excursions, I had to endure an appointment with Sheila first, which is why I'd had to ask for Thursday off. I had greatly cut back on my number of sessions, thanks to my mother's "generosity", but after a few seconds in Sheila's presence, I was certainly devaluing the usefulness of seeing her less often. For one thing, I felt like I was off my game. I wasn't as focused as usual, and therefore she triggered my emotions several times with her questions, whereas in the past I could annoy her with my evasiveness.

"How's school?" Her nonchalance was misleading.

"Boring," I answered.

"Any extra-curricular activities this semester?"

I smirked at her. "Does that question have more than one answer?"

"Not intentionally." Sheila was not her usual self either. She seemed tense, tired and impatient with our usual banter. "Why? Are you dating someone?"

"Not at the moment, but the season is still young," I winked at her.

"What about activities? You mentioned your grades were improving. Have you given any further thought to joining any scholastic clubs?"

I grimaced. "What is with you, Sheila? Are you _trying_ to mutilate my social life?"

"I'm simply giving you suggestions on activities you might be interested in investing yourself in or doing-"

"Like the football team?"

Sheila sighed and I smiled. I liked when I exasperated her. It made me feel like we were on a level playing field.

At the beginning of the year we talked about visualizing accomplishments for your future. Have you set any goals, Bella."

"I did," I nodded seriously. "My goal is to score…repeatedly."

"Have you given anymore thought to the idea of medication?"

"Next subject," I rolled my eyes. I didn't want to hear about _that_ anymore.

"You don't have to talk about it, Bella. But just know that I think it would be very freeing for you to be able to focus your energies elsewhere. It's not healthy to have such a one-track mind."

"I don't." I didn't quite know what the opposite of a one-track mind was, so I didn't offer anything more.

Sheila looked down at the legal pad she'd been scribbling away on. "Bella, since we've been speaking, you've made several references to teams, fields, goals, seasons, scoring, football," she paused to look up at me. "If I had to venture a guess, I'd say that a football player, somewhere, had captured your interest. Am I right?"

"No," I pshawed.

But she and I both knew I was lying.

And so what? So what if my window of opportunity with Randy had cracked open and he was on my mind? Human beings are designed to want companionship. I am a normal, healthy, red-blooded female that likes – no, make that _loves_ – the company of guys.

But as of 2:30 p.m. on Friday afternoon, I was mainly only interested in the company of one guy, which was Randy, if I hadn't been clear enough about that already.

I saw him lingering by the classroom door, and I thought he was finally going to get around to actually saying something to me. The staring thing was getting rather old.

I ran a hand through my hair and licked my lips as I tried to look as well as I could without a brush, a mirror and three less hours of school. I was all prepared to do my best flirting, but when I walked out the door, Randy was nowhere to be seen. I looked to my left and right, baffled by how quickly I'd lost sight of him.

"Crap," I complained to myself. "Another weekend of fuckin' celibacy."

To make matters worse, it wasn't just a weekend of no sex. It was a weekend with work on top of no sex.

As I walked into the Silver Screen that afternoon, I was assessing my mood, wondering if I was desperate enough to see if Edward was up for making any more recordings. However, one look at him and my desperation deflated a little. He was already staring at me with that expression that told me not to even consider fucking with him. I swear, his mood swings were worse than the varsity cheerleading squad at their time of the month.

"Quit looking at me," I snapped.

"You're late," he hissed.

"I'm here. Count your fucking blessings."

He mumbled something unintelligible under his breath, but I didn't care to try to figure out what it was. I'd be spending my Friday night, Saturday night and Sunday afternoon in this hellhole. I was probably in a worse mood than he was.

Actually, there was no _probably_ about it. I _was_ in a worse mood, and by Sunday, Edward had finally caught a clue and quit giving me shit about stupid, mundane things, like the fact that there were no more salt and pepper packets in the condiment rack.

"If it's not busy today, I'm fuckin' going home," I snapped, even though I wasn't quite sure I could go home without getting fired.

"It'll be busy," Edward said. His tone was sharper than usual, filled with sarcasm, cynicism and hatred. He was dutifully popping popcorn and filling straw and napkin dispensers, and like the helpful, stellar employee that I was, I just watched him in a stupor of boredom.

And he was actually right. We were busy. As soon as he unlocked the doors to the theater, people started pouring in, already singing their favorite songs from the Mama Mia soundtrack.

"Somebody shoot me now," I quipped when a group of college-aged girls came in singing at the top of their lungs.

"Don't tempt me," Edward retorted back.

I realized that the day would go by faster if I did actual work and stopped merely standing by, watching the clock; so that's what I did. I wiped down counters, restocked candy (we actually sold some!), replenished the toilet paper in the bathroom and answered a question or two about the length of the movie. In fact, I was so steeped in doing what I was supposed to, sweeping up spilled popcorn behind the concession stand, that I didn't notice Randy walk in until he was standing right in front of me.

And apparently he didn't notice me until that moment either.

"Y-you work here?" he stuttered.

"Sure, rub it in," I gave him one of my award-winning smiles.

He didn't smile back. He just kind of nervously glanced over his shoulder a few times at a tall African-American woman who seemed to be waiting for him to finish up at the counter.

"You here on a dare or something?" I asked to kill the awkward silence between us.

"Um…yeah," Randy let out a fake laugh. "Something like that."

I was about to tell him what time my shift ended and ask him if he wanted to be rescued when he mumbled something about not needing a soda and all but ran through the theater doors.

Edward stood next to me shaking his head.

"Do you know him?" I asked, my eyes still on the trail of Randy's retreat.

"Not enough to admit to it," Edward answered.

"What's his deal? Was that his girlfriend?"

When my question went unanswered, I looked over at Edward to see him looking at me with mock awe.

"What?" I asked.

"Girlfriend? That was his… excuse," Edward reasoned.

"His excuse for what?"

"Unbelievable," Edward muttered as he shook his head and walked away from me.

My interest was piqued, so I followed after him. "His excuse for what, Edward?" _To come here? To see me? Was Randy simply too nervous to follow through and ask me out? Did I need to make the first move?_

"That guy's practically shittin' Skittles," Edward nodded toward the theater.

He didn't offer me anymore clues and I was left standing there wondering why I should care if Randy over-indulged on rainbow colored treats.

Oooh... _Taste the rainbow_. Got it.

"Randy?" I asked nonetheless.

"Yeah, Randy," Edward rolled his eyes. "And you might want to get that gaydar of yours checked. So far, you don't know how to use it."

I was in a state of disbelief. _Randy? Randy was gay?_ There was no way. He was beautiful. He was athletic. He was on the football team…

…and twelve seconds later when I snuck into the dark theater, Randy was also the one singing along at the top of his lungs and swiveling his hips right along with his friend, whom I could now see had a very prominent Adam's Apple.

_Fuck_! Randy _was_ gay. So much for that pipe dream.

I emerged from the theater just as Edward announced that he was going to take ten. My eyes stayed on his back as he disappeared into the hallway for his break. His overly rancid and embittered attitude suddenly made a lot of sense. Because if there was one thing I definitely knew about guys – and I knew a lot of things – it was that even though a gay guy doesn't mind if you think he's straight, a straight guy _ALWAYS_ minds if you think he's gay.

Aside from the obvious question of why the hell Alice had even told him what I'd said, there were a million others floating around inside my head as well, the most pressing being why he couldn't get it up.

"So, you got a girlfriend?" I asked ten minutes later when Edward reappeared. It was my way of letting him know that I understood what he'd been trying to tell me.

"If I had a girlfriend, why the fuck would I have…in the backseat of your car," Edward eluded.

"First of all, guys fuck around on their girlfriends all the time and second, I thought we weren't actually acknowledging the fact that anything happened in the backseat of my car," I said.

"We're not."

I scoffed in the form of a snort. "Yeah, whatever. So how's the website coming?"

I half expected him to ignore me, like he had the last time I'd asked him about his website; but he actually turned to me and nodded. Perhaps he was thawing over the fact that I'd acknowledged his correct sexual orientation.

"I checked it out," I admitted. I wasn't lying. I had actually followed through and snuck into my mother's office on Thursday night while she was at the grocery store.

"And?" he wanted to know.

"It needs more porn." The sound effects were cool and all, but I was a visual person.

"Mm," He grunted. Three beats of silence passed and then he spoke again. "My hits doubled."

"You think the categories helped?"

He hesitated before nodding and I knew it was because he didn't really want to give me credit for his success. Whatever. I didn't need credit. Why would I want to take credit for a porn website anyway?

"I'm getting requests now, though," he added.

"Well did you tell 'em you're not a fuckin' radio station?"

He halfway smirked at my question, then added seriously, "They had some interesting ideas," he said cryptically.

I recognized the hint in his tone and rose to the wager.

"Like what? What are they requesting?" I asked.

"Different things."

Edward was being vague and I knew it was probably because we were at work. I stopped asking him questions and he stopped throwing me little tidbits of information. Soon Randy and the Sing-a-Longs came out of the theater; when I looked at Randy through newly enlightened eyes, I wondered how I had ever missed it. He was carrying a freakin' purse and wearing lip gloss for goodness sakes!

Once the theater had emptied, Edward and I worked silently in tandem. Since I didn't know any differently, I went about the same duties I usually did during the week when I worked. Hence my surprise when I heard Edward jingling his keys near the front door just a half hour after the movie had ended.

"We're done," he announced.

"Just one showing?" I asked.

"Mmhm," he mumbled.

"Sweet." It was kind of a waste of my time to work a three-hour shift, but I wasn't going to complain. I wanted nothing more than to be outta there.

"So…" Edward lingered on the sidewalk as I shuffled around in my bag for my car keys.

I looked up and saw that he was giving me _that_ look.

Even though I didn't know Edward that well, I still could decipher a few of his expressions. For example, I knew when he didn't bother to shake the hair out of his face and glared at me through his one visible eye, his lips slightly parted – he did that when he was about to cuss me out or something. Or when he stared blankly off into space; it meant that he knew I was there, but he wished I wasn't.

I could also tell when he wanted something. His gaze was intense, almost like he was trying to look through me – to size me up without the aid of words. That's how he was looking at me at the moment.

"More recordings?" I asked. No need to beat around the bush. I'm not that kind of girl.

Edward almost laughed at my response. I was shocked to find out that he wasn't expecting my directness.

"You up for it?" he asked.

"I don't know. You never told me what the requests were for. I'm not into that freaky shit. I'm not gonna let anyone piss or shit on me – there isn't enough money in the world for that fuckery."

"Only you would think of something like that."

"Um, no, it's not only me. A guy once asked me if he could piss on my tits."

"Did you let him?"

"Fuck no, I didn't let him! I told you, not for all the money in the world."

"Well, anyway, nobody's requesting any fucked up shit like that anyway. Mainly it's stuff like word play."

"Word play?" _What the hell is that?_

"Yeah. Like instead of watching a porn about deflowering a virgin, you listen instead."

"Like role playing?"

"Kinda."

I looked at Edward skeptically. "I don't know. I'd have to know you better to role play with you."

"So you don't have to know me to let me take off your clothes and record you getting off, but ask you to pretend to be someone else, and suddenly you're Mother Theresa?"

"And obviously _you've_ never role-played before." Edward opened his mouth to dispute and I quickly added, "And I'm not talking about your geeky Dungeons and Dragons games. That shit doesn't count."

"You've underestimated me before, remember?" Edward didn't break his stride as he headed toward his car. "Hey look, there's something that you know about me – you always underestimate me."

I didn't like the way he said that. It was very "Count Dracula" of him; like he was going to morph into a bat at any second and maul me to death. Yet, despite that feeling, I stared after him as he walked over to his car, opened his car door and glanced over his shoulder at me.

"Coming?"

_Yes and please._

Edward didn't object when I climbed into his backseat, but he confused me when he got behind the wheel, started his car and pulled out of the parking lot.

"What's going on? Where are we going?" I asked.

"If you hadn't noticed, it's the middle of the day. I'm not staying out here in the middle of an empty parking lot," he answered – his eyes never straying from the road.

"Oh, I see. So you'd rather go to a fully populated location instead. Smart." I rolled my eyes.

He didn't respond. He simply kept driving until he reached the parking garage in downtown Port Angeles and pulled into a dark, corner spot at the rear of the first level.

Oh. Okay, so he had a point with the underestimating thing. Fortunately for me, he didn't bother to gloat as he joined me in the backseat with his trusty recorder. Instead, he sat next to me awkwardly, like he didn't know exactly how to start.

"So, what's the deal? What do you want me to do?" I guided him along.

"I've gotten the most requests for the virgin thing, so…"

I snorted for the second time that day. Me, playing the part of a virgin? I guess it wasn't that ironic when you figured porn stars played that part every day. A little hypocritical, but not ironic.

Edward eyed my jeans. "This would be so much easier if you'd wear a skirt."

"I'm not wearing a fucking skirt to work," I told him. Nonetheless, I took that as my cue to remove my pants, so I did.

Suddenly I was being pulled onto Edward's lap. He was usually so careful, calculated in the positioning of our bodies, so I was tremendously shocked to find myself, naked from the waist down, sitting astride a fully clothed Edward.

"You need a condom," I told him.

"No I don't," he said as he pushed my hips back to put a little more distance between us.

"If you plan on –"

"I'm not fucking you," he interrupted.

_Excuse me?_

"Then why the fuck are we here?" I was agitated that I'd gotten my hopes, and my hormones in a tizzy. I mean, it took a little mental preparation to come to terms with the fact that I was going to fuck Edward Cullen, but once I'd accepted that fact, I was kind of ready for it. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I was in the midst of my longest dry spell ever, but whatever the reason, I was pissed off to find out that there wasn't going to be any penetration going on.

Instead of answer my question, Edward ran the tip of his finger slowly down my slit, from top to bottom, pausing momentarily to press on my clit.

"Are you always this wet?" he asked, as if I hadn't said a word.

Something about his question unnerved me; like he was saying something was wrong about the way my body responded to him. I answered defensively.

"I'm sitting on a guy's lap with my pussy on display. Most girls would be wet in this situation. And most guys would be sporting wood." I looked at the area below the snap on his pants. "But apparently you aren't most guys."

I wanted him to get mad. I wanted him to feel exactly the way he'd made me feel – like my body responded inadequately.

Only, he didn't get mad and that only resulted in making me feel worse. Because maybe his body _did_ respond with everybody else. Maybe I _was_ defective. Because Edward's file had said he was a hypersexual and yet his body did not even acknowledge mine.

I was his kryptonite.

"What the fuck!" I erupted as I scampered off his lap.

Edward, who seemed to have been in some sort of pre-recording trance up until this point, flinched at my sudden movement and the tone of my voice.

"What the hell is your problem?" he asked me.

"You! You're my fucking problem." I told him. "What the hell, Edward? I'm not good enough for you or something?"

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"You prefer blondes or something?"

I noticed his eyes travel to my crotch before he answered. "No."

"But I don't turn you on at all?" I didn't know why it was so important to me. I didn't want Edward to lust after me or anything, but come on already! I mean, if I couldn't even make him hard…

"I never said that." Edward's voice was low and even.

"Actions – or lack thereof- speak louder than words," I said.

"Maybe I'm showing how turned on I am in a different way. Maybe I've been castrated or had a penectomy and I can't respond in the obvious way."

My eyes grew wide in humiliation and my face reddened in horror. I had nothing to say at how insensitive and self-centered my thoughts and words had been.

At that moment, Edward pointed at me and started laughing. "God, you're so easy." Then, realizing how it sounded, he added, "Gullible."

"Nice," I pouted. "That's not fucking funny, Edward."

"I thought it was."

"Take me back to my car. I'm not doing your fucking recording anymore."

"Fine by me," Edward said. But he didn't move.

Neither did I.

He turned away from me and looked out the window, though the only thing outside his window was a wall of concrete.

"Not that it matters, but I prefer brunettes."

Big deal.

Okay, it kind of made me feel a little bit better, but I'm not telling him that. And I'm not doing his silly recording…

Edward, still with his face turned toward the window, reached back and put his hand on my knee. I watched the motion without interest. I knew what he was doing and it wasn't going to work. Just because he liked the color of my hair…

…fuck him and his long ass fingers slowly moving up my thigh. That shit doesn't mean anything. I don't care that he's moving higher and inward with every stroke, either. And I'm definitely not opening my legs any wider to grant him access. That fucker had his chance.

I didn't even see it happen, but I looked over and Edward was _rightthere_ , sitting so close to me that there was no space between us. He'd moved aside his ever-present curtain of hair and I could see both of his eyes.

And then he licked his lips.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Edward had awesome lips. I'd warned him off kissing me before, but now that they were so close, I couldn't stop staring, and just like the last time I was in this situation, I wanted to kiss him.

So focused I was on that thought, that I wasn't prepared for when Edward's hand shifted quickly and went underneath my shirt and found my weakness. He pinched my nipple. Hard.

"Mmm…shit," I exhaled softly.

Edward leaned over and I was sure he felt the tug toward my mouth as well. I reached for him, bracing myself for the caress, but he bypassed my lips completely and bent down and took my nipple between his teeth.

I gasped, unsure of the level of pain that would follow, but Edward granted me only pleasure. His teeth were merely a contrast for his soft, wet, firm tongue.

"Your tits taste so good," he crooned as he transitioned to my other nipple .

I ran my fingers through his hair as I cradled his head to my chest. The soft, silky feel of the dull, dark strands surprised me and I couldn't stop stroking them. As if inspired by my actions, Edward reached down, then, and began stroking me – right where it mattered most.

"You're so tight," he said as he slipped one finger inside me.

I admit, it had been awhile since I'd seen any action, but I hadn't been "tight" in awhile. I opened one eye to make sure everything was as it should be. Edward wasn't looking at me though. His eyes were on my breasts. I guess they were his weakness, too.

I was about to close my eyes again when I was distracted by the red light on Edward's _active_ recorder.

When I realized that I was being recorded, that we both were being recorded, I realized what Edward was doing with his words. He was playing his role, and I was supposed to play mine.

Virgin. _Right._

"Ooh," I mewled. "It hurts."

"Just relax." Edward inserted another finger. "You feel so good."

Just as I was going to let out another "complaint", Edward's thumb came down on my clit and I reacted appreciatively. If I closed my eyes and concentrated on what he said and did, I could almost feel how he wanted me to react. It was like I was the puppet and he was the puppet master, expertly pulling my strings.

"Ah…ow," I said in a small voice when Edward tented his fingers, as if picking up a small object, and inserted three inside of me. One thing about Edward's fingers: they weren't small, and if I was being honest, there was a modicum of discomfort associated with the movement.

"Your pussy is so hot and wet. Feels so good…I just want to fuck you so hard."

"Mmm…"

"Can I fuck you? Tell me you want me to fuck you."

"Fuck me. Please, fuck me," I begged.

I kind of meant that, actually. What I wouldn't have given to have Edward whip out his rock, hard cock and fuck me senseless.

But of course, I had no such luck. Edward pulled me back onto his lap and positioned me so that I was actually "riding" his fingers. The sound my body made as I repetitively collided into his hand would probably sound like we were actually fucking on his recording. But just in case, I did my part to restore an element of reality.

"Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Mmm, yeah," I called over and over again.

Then Edward lifted up my shirt and started sucking, biting and licking on my tits and my bellows of pleasure were no longer fabricated. I kept up the motion atop his lap and it didn't take long before I felt the stirrings of an orgasm. I don't know how Edward knew how close I was, but at the perfect moment, he found my clit with his free hand and in a half rolling, half flicking backward and forward motion, he sent me over the edge in no time at all.

Afterward, he actually allowed me to lie against his shoulder, gasping for breath, for all of thirty seconds before he gently maneuvered me onto the seat beside him. As he moved from the backseat to the front seat, I saw him nonchalantly wipe his hands off on the hem of his shirt, and it didn't escape my notice that his jeans held no identifiable protrusion.

I felt bad again, wondering if perhaps he had been telling me the truth earlier. Was it possible that he really didn't have a dick?

I was still fixated on that thought when I'd finished dressing and joined him in the front seat of his car.

"Aren't you going to check to see if it recorded?" I asked when Edward started up his car and shifted it into drive.

"Doesn't matter. I can't use it," Edward said. "You said my name like a million times."

"I did?" I didn't remember saying his name at all. After the first time we'd fooled around, I knew I wasn't supposed to.

"Yeah, when you came."

"Oh. Sorry."

"No big deal. It's only the most crucial part of the recording."

"Hey – I said I was sorry. No need to get pissy."

Edward glanced over at me and smiled. Until then, I hadn't known he was joking. But his rare laid back demeanor was just the lead-in I needed to address what was bothering me. I waited a few minutes to make it seem casual before I questioned him.

"Were you really kidding around before? Or were you kinda serious…about the castration thing?"

"No, I wasn't serious!" Edward responded as if I was the biggest idiot on the planet.

For like the hundredth time that day, I glimpsed between his legs and when I looked back at him, he was watching me.

"Yes I have a dick and no you can't see it," he said preemptively.

"Why not?"

"Because."

"You've seen me naked."

"And now that we've established the difference between you and me, we can go on with our day."

"You have to admit, it is a bit weird."

"What is?"

"That I'm the only one that gets anything out of this arrangement, besides your sponsor dollars and the hits to your website," I amended.

Edward shrugged as it was all of no consequence.

Our conversation died out then and we said nothing more until he dropped me off at my car in the parking lot of the theater. And then, instead of goodbye, all he said was that I was working on Tuesday.

"Yay, me," I grumbled as I started to get out of his car. Swiftly I turned to check the backseat, to make sure I hadn't left anything back there – and that's when I saw the small, orange plastic prescription bottle.

Perhaps it was because I was fresh off my meeting with Sheila, but I immediately put two and two together.

"You're medicated," I told him. "Dude, you're fucking crazy for taking that shit. How could you let them talk you into that?"

I didn't even need to hear Edward confirm it to know that I was right. The expression on his face was all the confirmation I needed.

"You don't know what you're talking about." His statement held no confidence.

"I sure as hell do know what I'm talking about. My mom's been trying to get me on that shit for years, but there's no way. That shit _causes_ problems instead of cures them. Not that liking sex is a problem."

I'd grown so comfortable with knowing what Edward's psych file said, that I completely lost sight of the fact that he didn't know what mine said. So when he cut off his car and turned to face me, it was apparent that he thought I was talking about him, not myself.

"Who said I liked sex?" his tone and body language was defensive.

"Besides the fact that you have a porn website and you've messed around with me, what, three times now? Despite the fact that you seem to hate me, I'd say you like sex. But anyway, I was talking about me, not you."

"Is that why you were in that group last summer?" he asked me.

"You remember?" I asked. He hadn't given any previous indication that he had.

"Yeah, but I just thought you were on drugs or something."

I laughed. "Funny, that that _isn't_ one of my vices, yet my mom is trying so hard to put me on meds."

"Yeah, but they don't get you high or anything."

"I know. It's just…nothing. I was just being stupid."

Silence.

"How long have you been on 'em?" I asked.

"Almost two years."

"You haven't had sex in two years?" I couldn't believe my ears.

Edward shrugged. "Can't."

"Aren't you afraid it'll…like change you _permanently?_" I didn't have to spell out what I meant. He knew what I was talking about.

"It's not supposed to. The doctor said it wouldn't."

"Yeah, well doctors say a lot of shit that isn't true. I oughta know. I live with one."

"So do I."

It was the longest conversation we'd had to date, and in his presence just then, fully clothed, it was the most naked I'd ever felt. Even though I hadn't shared much with him, it was strange to realize that he still knew me in a way that nobody else did.

_Huh_. I did not see that coming.


	9. Chapter 9

I hate Edward's Aunt Bonnie. No, seriously, I do. Apart from giving me the job, which I admit, I am thankful for, she hasn't made a good decision since.

In addition to the horrible Sing-A-Long Sunday idea, she now had the bright idea to lease the building directly next door and open an arcade. This wouldn't have been such a big deal if the owner hadn't agreed to install a door between the theater and the soon-to-be-arcade so that patrons of both the theater and the arcade could enjoy the concession stand.

When she came into the theater during my shift to break the news to Edward and I, she kept going on and on about revenue streams and cross merchandising opportunities. All I heard was how much fucking more work I would have to do.

Apparently Edward was just as displeased as I was, though it wasn't the increased work that had him sour – it was the increase in work_ers_.

"You can't be in two places at once, Edward," Bonnie said when he'd balked at the news of three new hires. "Plus, I need someone who knows how to work on those large arcade-style games. Lord knows I don't have a clue how to do it."

"This is a bad idea," Edward shook his head.

"Edward, remember what your parents said? All change isn't bad. Plus, I promise not to hire anyone without your input," she said to appease him.

"Pshh," he rolled his eyes and looked over at me. "That's what you said last time."

"Oh, don't be a brat," she swatted him playfully before addressing me directly. "He adores you. His sister told me-"

"I said she was tolerable!" Edward yelled. "That hardly means I adore her."

"Yes, well, nobody else I've hired has been _tolerable_ to you, so in my book, that screams of adoration," Bonnie winked at me.

I offered her a fake smile, because let's face it, true or not, being "adored" by Edward is no prize-winning feat. Though he does have a good pair of hands on him, and those lips…

"Isabell?"

"Huh? Um…yeah?" I asked distractedly. I really had to set this broad straight on my name.

"Would you be interested in learning the closing responsibilities for the theater? Because if Edward would be willing to close the arcade once it's up and running, I wouldn't have to hire another person on the night shift. We don't really need another body on the night shift, and that's your only availability during the week." Bonnie reminded me.

"Yeah, that's cool," I shrugged.

"Great!" she exclaimed. Then she tapped Edward on the chest, "you'll train her this week, and then I'll train you on what I want you to do in the arcade."

"I'm not closing every weekend," Edward complained.

"Of course not. I'll trade off with you," Bonnie smiled.

Something about the way she handled Edward made me think that she was only telling him what she thought he wanted to hear. It was a thought that became a bona fide fact a week later when we met the first of three new co-workers. And unlike Bonnie had promised, Edward had had no say in the matter.

Ronnie was a small, thirty-two-year-old "gamer" who took one on-line course at the community college each semester just to keep his dad – whose basement he lived in rent-free – off his back. He was lazy, cocky and knew a shit-ton about video games.

Edward hated him immediately.

It took three days for me to start hating him.

"1980."

I looked up to see Ronnie standing in front of me with the most ridiculous grin on his face.

"What?" I frowned.

"1980," he said again.

"O-kay," I rolled my eyes when it became apparent that this string of numbers was supposed to mean something to me.

"Betcha don't know what happened that year," Ronnie went on.

"It was the last time you had pussy?" Edward muttered as he walked behind me.

I laughed so hard that I snorted, but since Ronnie hadn't heard Edward's statement, he took my laughter to mean that I couldn't possibly know what happened in 1980.

"That's the year Pac-Man came to the United States," Ronnie told me.

"Oh really?" I quipped with disinterest.

"Yep. Of course it was released in Japan first under the name of Puck Man, but I wonder if the United States was afraid that people would associate it with hockey so they changed the name."

He might have said more, but I think I fell asleep from boredom at that very second.

And if I thought I had it bad, Edward had it even worse. Ronnie tried to practice some outdated version of "bro-bonding" with Edward and he couldn't have been further off the mark on how to communicate with him.

"Dude, did you see that Baywatch marathon last night?" Ronnie followed after Edward as he moved from the cash register to the popcorn machine. "Man, Pamela Anderson is smokin' hot, right?"

Edward didn't bother to answer.

"Oh, Yasmine Bleeth more your type? Yeah, she's hot, too."

Again no response from Edward and I looked up to see him eyeing me like he was going to kill somebody. No, not somebody; Ronnie.

"He's a quiet one, isn't he?" Ronnie asked me, pointing to Edward. "Doesn't like to talk about girls or games."

I kept my comments to myself, but Edward saw the way my smile betrayed me, and I saw him smirk too when his back was turned to Ronnie.

Finally. _Finally_ Ronnie took the hint and went back onto his side of the wall to monitor the video games and probably play a few.

"If he doesn't stop talking so much, I swear I'm gonna punch him in the mouth," Edward exhaled.

"That sounds a little ghetto, even for you, Edward," I laughed. "But yeah, I could definitely do without all of his nonsense. Though, if I had to choose, I'd rather hear him talk about Ms. Pac Man than Babewatch, because at least then I don't have visual images of him beating off to an electronic cheese wedge."

"Ugh! Thanks for that!" Edward exclaimed with no gratitude. "Now _I_ need brain bleach."

"Oh, come on. Like you weren't thinking it."

"I wasn't."

"Seriously? The way he was going on and on about watching the girls in that show and you didn't once think about him buffing the banana a time or two?"

"Yes, because that's exactly what I want to think about. Ronnie, sitting on the floor with his pint-sized dick in his fist," Edward spat out.

Yeah, now that he'd put it that way, even I was grossed out at the fact that I'd brought it up.

"Buffing the banana?" Edward stopped in front of me fifteen minutes later. "Where do you come up with this shit?"

"Urban dictionary. You should try it sometime. It might give you some ideas for categories you can use on your website."

At the mention of the website, Edward clammed up. He kept his distance and didn't say anything more to me for the rest of my shift.

It was a little odd, and I wasted way too much time that night thinking about it. But I knew we were working together every day that week and I figured he'd get over whatever was bugging him by the next time we saw each other.

But the next day at work, I was too distracted by a new development to tell if Edward was still pissy or not.

Ronnie had gotten a new co-worker.

And it was Alice's curly-top.

And that mother-fucker was cool as hell.

He told me his name was Jasper, and I didn't let on that I already knew. Instead, I made fun of his name a little because, let's face it – Jasper? Anyway, he also knows a lot about video games, but in a non-creeptastic way, unlike Ronnie.

In the first two hours of working together, I learned more about Jasper than I'd learned about Edward in more than two months. Of course, Jasper spoke with an accent, so it was obvious that he was from down south. This led to a conversation about why in the hell he'd move to Port Angeles, Washington.

"Ever heard of a city called Dellview?" he asked me.

"Nope."

"I'm not surprised. There're only about 25 people who live there and I'm related to 95% of 'em."

"Is that some kind of hippy commune or something?"

Jasper let out a hearty laugh at my question and proceeded to tell me that Dellview was some tiny town in North Carolina.

"My daddy owns a few car dealerships out this way, which is why we moved here," Jasper went on to explain.

"You still call your dad 'Daddy'?" I questioned.

Jasper looked at me with wide eyes. "Well not to his face!"

His facial expression told me that he was joking, so it was my turn to laugh.

"So if your dad owns car dealerships, why work here? Why not just work for him? Or even better, why not just sit back and bask in the spoils of his plunder?"

He shrugged and it was the first time in two hours that he looked completely serious. "My daddy's money comes with a price tag that I'm not sure I want to pay. So I'm just workin' on seein' what it feels like to earn my own way."

Edward walked by then and 'accidentally on purpose' bumped into my chair.

"Oh, didn't see you there. I didn't realize you were working since I haven't seen you do a damn thing all night," Edward sneered at me.

I rolled my eyes and ignored him, but Jasper quickly stood up to return to work.

"Don't mind him. He's always like that," I said, waving off Edward's attitude externally, but internally I was afraid that I had somehow destroyed what little camaraderie I'd developed with him and that we'd be back to how things were when we'd first started working together.

"I don't want to get you in trouble," Jasper nodded in Edward's direction. "Plus, he's the boss's nephew, so…"

"Actually, _he's_ kind of the boss. Assistant Manager," I flipped my own title-less nametag as I spoke.

"Okay, well, then. Back to work."

As Jasper walked away from me, I wondered about the silent agreement that we'd entered into. I didn't ask any questions about Alice and he didn't offer any information about her, yet I knew that he knew who I was and had seen me with Alice at school.

He was probably just as secretive as she was, and I left it at that.

"What's your problem?" I asked Edward when it was just he and I on the theater side. Edward had sold approximately four tickets that evening. It was an unusually slow night. Too slow for him to be acting as if I'd left him high and dry in the help department.

"My problem is that I shouldn't have to do all the damn work myself when someone else is scheduled to work with me."

"What work?" I asked, looking around. I'd cleaned the lobby two hours ago and it was still in tip-top shape. "Nothing needs to be done."

"I thought you and Alice were friends," he said the words as if he'd pulled them haphazardly out of thin air.

It took my mind a few seconds to register the fact that he'd changed the subject.

"Hello, random."

"It's not random. You've spent the entire evening flirting with your so-called friend's boyfriend."

"Okay, first of all, that wasn't flirting, and second, _is_ Jasper Alice's boyfriend?"

Edward clammed up then, as if he'd said too much.

"Oh come on; don't hold out on me now," I insisted. "What's the deal with those two? I've never even seen 'em so much as stand next to each other, but she can spot him a million miles away. Like he's got some kind of homing device on him or something."

I waited for Edward to answer my question, but he tossed a dirty rag at me instead and it landed on my arm.

"Hey!" I yelled.

"Make yourself useful for once and clean the counter."

"Fuck you, Edward."

Yeah, something had definitely gotten ruined between us along the way, but when, and why? I had no idea.

I managed not to have another encounter with Edward until later that night. He was practically invisible until it was closing time, when he appeared to show me what all needed to be locked up. At just about the same time, Jasper's shift was ending so he came over to tell me goodnight before he left.

"I'm workin' tomorrow, so I'll see ya then?" Jasper asked.

I nodded in answer to his question before glancing over at Edward in time to see him glaring at me…or rather at Jasper.

"Dude, chill out," I told him after Jasper had walked away. "What's your problem tonight?"

Once again, Edward acted as if I hadn't spoken. He went around performing his nightly closing routine, and it wasn't until I was about to head out to my car that I remembered that he was supposed to be showing _me_ how to close down the theater.

"Hey! I yelled at him when he bypassed me on the way to our respective vehicles.

"Let me guess…you ran out of gas again? Shall I run and tell Jasper that you'd like to ride him…oh, I mean that you'd like him to give you a ride home?"

"Fuck you, Edward." I didn't have time for this. I was tired and hungry, and frankly, I didn't want to deal with issues with Alice if Edward told her I was hitting on her boyfriend – which, for the record, I wasn't.

Jasper was just a nice guy. He was funny and easy to talk to, but I wasn't into him. I'm not sure why, except that I guess I liked Alice enough not to want to see her hurt in that way. She was crazy about the guy and I knew it.

And Edward knew it too, thought he wouldn't tell me how he happened upon this knowledge. Instead, he took my expletive as our parting words for the evening and the next time I saw him he was sitting in his usual seat in Physics willing himself to be invisible to the rest of the world.

I, on the other hand, was paying attention, for once.

It all started late last week when I took a quiz in Physics and, since I'd been doing the homework, I passed. Then I took a test and passed. Suddenly I had a passing grade in Physics – a real passing grade, not like that courtesy D- teachers throw seniors just so they'll graduate. I'm talking a real bona fide C; a C so high that if I squinted, it was practically a B-.

So yeah, all of a sudden I was really protective of that grade, hence the reason I was paying attention in class. And as I was paying said attention, I listened as the teacher began explaining a project which was to be thirty-five percent of the final grade… and then he said the dreaded words…

Group project.

Since the class was not a very large one, "group" meant "partner" and we had to pair off with only one other person. I watched as three other guys had the same idea I did. We all looked over at Edward as our first choice. I looked because he was the only person I knew in the class. The others looked because everyone knew about the large letter "A's" written in red Sharpie marker that always adorned Edward's homework and tests. He didn't flaunt them, but he didn't hide them either. The Physics teacher was one of those dense people who dropped all papers to be returned on the desk of the person who sat in the first seat of the first row and watched as the papers filtered throughout the rest of the class to their respective owners. Needless to say, despite my recently raised marks, everyone had seen enough of my "D's" and "F's" to steer clear of me. Which is probably why Edward wasn't exactly seeking me out either.

I waited until he so eloquently shot down the other guys' partner requests. Two of them he simply ignored until they went away and the third – I think I heard him growl at him. That's when I made my moved.

"I'm doing my project alone," Edward said when he saw me shift into the desk beside his.

"That's an option?" I asked, considering it for myself.

Edward shrugged his shoulders.

"Well if you don't know if it's an option-"

"It's an option for _me._ I don't know if it's an option for _you._"

"How is it an option for you and not me? How does that work?"

Edward heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes – or eye. I could only see one.

"No," he said simply.

I couldn't tell if I was hurt because he blew me off like the rest of these bozos or that, after all this time he still didn't consider me at least partially as a friend. Whatever his aunt had been talking about when she said he "adored" me was a bunch of bull. Like I said, I hate that woman.

"Fine. But you'd better hope you don't need a favor someday," I told Edward as I moved away from him.

"Pssh. You owe me a million favors already," Edward spat back.

I looked around the classroom at who my other prospects were and the outlook was grim. For starters, it appeared as though everyone else had paired off while I was having my little tête à tête with the goth spawn. Add to the fact that I might have had the lowest grade in the class, and the chances of anyone volunteering to partner with me were slim. Almost as slim as the odds of Edward owing me a favor.

So color me surprised when the oddest turn of events put him at my mercy by the week's end.

We worked together all week and Edward was uncharacteristically "charming". On Thursday, Alice actually stopped by to see Jasper. She came over to say hello to me as well, but she and Edward acted like they didn't know one another. It was odd, but then everything concerning Edward was, so I didn't give it much thought.

I _couldn't_ give it much thought because the arcade had brought in the town's youth and we were actually busy. I was manning the ticket booth and Edward was behind the concession stand because he said I was too slow. I didn't mind. The foul way he treated the middle-schoolers was kind of entertaining. He flipped them off when they weren't looking, insulted them in a way that they didn't even recognize and completely ignored them when he'd had his fill of their stupidity.

But when Edward continued to be a prick, even to the kids who weren't being jerks, I was less entertained and more worried. Suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore.

"Hey, you want me to take over back here? I think I can handle it. It's dying down," I offered as I stepped up to the popcorn machine.

"No," Edward shirked my offer and continued to move about behind the counter. I was just about to leave when a small blonde boy, about thirteen years old, came to the counter and ordered a soda. He plunked down his money to pay the inflated price but then made the mistake of changing his mind on the kind of soda he wanted.

Then he asked Edward to half fill the cup with cola and then fill the other half with lemon-lime.

I couldn't even blink before the kid was covered, head-to-toe, with soda.

"Edward!" I called out, flabbergasted.

Edward chucked the cup across the room and then stalked off toward the staff area, leaving me to make nice with the mess he'd just made.

I quickly gave the kid a towel to dry off with, before sending him on his merry way with a free soda and the largest box of candy I could find. I don't know who or what I was protecting, the theater, my job or Edward.

"Dude, would you like some cramps and bloating to go with your fucking PMS?" I asked when I found Edward slumped down in a seat in the makeshift break room.

"Who's watching the counter?" Edward scowled up at me.

"Oh don't act like you care about the customers now, Edward," I crossed my arms in front of me. "You just dumped a 32-ounce cup of soda on that kid in there!"

"So."

"So?"

"What the hell is wrong with you? I didn't say anything earlier because you get pissy with me all the time, but…that kid? And he wasn't even one of the punks from earlier. What's going on?"

"This is all your fault, you know," he said in an eerily low tone.

"My fault? How the hell are you going to blame this on me?"

"_Be your own person, Edward. Fuck them and their meds. You shouldn't take 'em,"_ he mimicked my voice.

"You quit taking your meds?" I asked with wide eyes and a smile. "That's great, Edward."

"No, it's _not_ great!" he growled. "I haven't taken them in almost a month and now I'm all whacked. Things aren't working the way they're supposed to."

"The mood swings? Is that why you've been so angry?" Now it was all starting to make sense. He seemed to have one or two less zits, too.

Edward's answer was to sigh and lean over the desk, resting his forehead on his arms.

"Are you feeling sick?"

"No."

I don't know what possessed me to do it, but I pulled my fingers in an upward motion through the hair at the back of Edward's head. I was attempting to be soothing and it must have worked because he didn't tell me to knock it off.

So I did it again. I raked my short fingernails against his scalp, taking notice of the untinted, reddish roots that caught my eye.

I was partway through my third downward stroke when Edward's words finally resonated with me.

"Wait, what isn't working?" Halfway through the question I already knew I wouldn't be getting the answer, so I didn't take much offense to Edward swatting my hand away from his head.

"We have to get back to work," he grumbled.

I followed him out to the lobby and groaned inwardly when I saw the few loitering kids, hoping to see a repeat of Edward's earlier tantrum. When Edward didn't acknowledge them, I stepped up to the counter and filled it while Edward shuffled back over to the ticket counter.

We worked in silent tandem for the rest of our shift. Edward made no crass remarks to me, not even about Jasper, who'd called in sick for the evening. In accordance, I didn't call him Satan, Lucifer, Crypt Keeper or any of the other nomenclatures (SAT word) I had for him.

"Maybe it just takes a while to get out of your system," I suggested quietly as we each took a turn retrieving our jackets from the break room.

"It's been almost a month," Edward said stoically beside me.

"Well…maybe you have to try different things to…you know…get in the mood."

"I've tried _everything," _Edward emphasized.

"What do you mean you've tried everything?"

"I mean I've tried it all. Nothing makes a difference."

_He'd tried everything?_ I mean, I knew he'd probably tried jerking off, watching porn, listening to the sounds on his website (which in a roundabout way means that he was listening to me), but _everything_ insinuated that he'd taken matters _out_ of his own hands and involved someone else.

There was someone else. A _not-me_ someone else.

I mean, I knew we weren't exclusive or anything, but … well if there was someone else, I should know about that person, shouldn't I? I have a right…right?

And speaking of rights, why didn't he ask me to help him out with this "little" problem? _Pun totally intended._

"Did you ask your dad about it?" I asked.

"Why would I do that?"

"Isn't he a doctor?"

"How'd you know that?"

"You told me."

"No I didn't. I said I lived with a doctor. I never said it was my dad."

"Oh. Well I just assumed." Uh-oh. I needed to be careful or I was going to reveal the fact that I knew a little more about Edward than I'd let on. "Well I wouldn't suggest you ask your mother about this."

"I wouldn't suggest that I ask _either_ of my parents about this, since I don't want them knowing I quit taking my meds. It's sort of…not up to me. At least not until my eighteenth birthday."

"When's that?"

"June."

Well, he definitely had a few months until that was an option for him.

My mind was spinning with the numerous things I wanted to suggest to Edward and as I tried to focus on a prominent thought, I noticed that Edward had yet to pack up his laptop that was sitting on the table across from me. I quickly took a seat in front of it and navigated to the only search engine I ever used.

"What's the name of that medication you were taking?" I asked. Edward knew immediately what I was doing and he supplied the name without a fuss.

"You're not going to find anything though. I already looked it up," he said.

"It doesn't say anything about impotency?"

"I'm not impotent!" Edward raged.

"So you can get it up?"

Edward's features morphed into a mask of absolute hatred before he flung his jacket over his shoulder and headed for the door. I grabbed onto his arm.

"Hang on. I'm not being a smart ass. I'm serious…" I waited until he had calmed down and was looking at me. "Can you?"

He hesitated a moment before shaking his head that he couldn't.

"Well…"I considered my words carefully. "I'm sure it's just temporary, Edward. And whomever the girl is that you were with will probably forget all about it by the time you're…functioning again."

After I was finished speaking, it was really quiet and I looked over to see Edward smirking at me in irritation.

"What?" I asked.

"You're pathetic." And then, before I had the chance to offer up some lame excuse for what I'd said, he countered, "If you want to know if I'm with someone, just ask me. Don't try all your little head games."

"Fine. Who were you with?"

"No one."

"But you said you tried everything."

"Well, within reason. I obviously can't try _that_ if I can't…you know," Edward gestured below his waist.

His words gave me hope – for him, not for me.

"Edward, if everything you've tried is on your own, it's no wonder it's not working. I mean, you can't trick yourself into being turned on."

"I've never had to trick myself before. Maybe that's shit girls have to do, but guys are guys. See a naked picture? Bam! Turned on."

"That's what turns you on? Seeing a woman naked?"

Edward looked me up and down for a moment, like he half expected me to start stripping right then and there.

"No, not _just_ seeing a naked body, and not just _any_ body." He shuddered at some imaginary image.

"Well what gets you hot?" Come on, tell me."

Edward opened his mouth and shut it several times. Then he walked over to his computer, closed it down and moved to the door.

"We can talk outside. I'm not talking about this shit in here, though."

_Outside_ was actually in the front seat of Edward's car. He started the engine and turned on the heater and the two of us sat in silence for a good ten seconds before he turned the question around on me.

"What gets _you_ hot?"

I hope he didn't think I was too shy to answer that question or something.

"Sex, plain and simple. Like, hot, wet, dirty sex. I also like it when guys are vocal, when they use both hands and when-"

"Both hands?" Edward interrupted.

"Yeah, like…well you did it. When I was sitting on your lap that time and you put both hands up my shirt…I like that. Or, when you did that G-spot thing that one time and you used both hands…like that."

Edward shook his head as he held back laughter. "Do you always talk about sex like you're talking about what you had for breakfast?"

"Hell yeah," I told him. "I refuse to be ashamed of the fact that I like to fuck. It's my business and anyone who has a problem with it can just shut the fuck up. I mean, it's such a double standard, you know? Fuckin' chewing gum companies use sex to sell me fuckin' gum, but when I want to hook up with some body, suddenly I need weekly therapy. What the hell is that shit?" I looked over to find Edward staring at me like I'd just made the Theory of Relativity make sense to the common man. "So…your turn."

"Is it hot in here to you?" Edward fiddled with the heater.

"Why? Are you getting turned on?" I asked hopefully.

"No, which means something is definitely wrong because what you just said would… well it definitely would have done the trick."

"Maybe you need more than words. I've been told I give great head," I hinted. I didn't really want to give Edward head…

…Okay, that's a lie. I did, but not as much as I wanted to see his cock. It was starting to be like the major show attraction behind the velvet curtain – too much speculation and not enough action. I just wanted to see it already!

"I can't," Edward said. "I already told you…"

"Just let me try."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Is this a pride thing?"

"Hell yeah it's a pride thing. You're not going anywhere near the Major when he's not at attention."

"The Major? Original…_not_."

It was getting late, but oddly, I didn't want my time with Edward to end. I kept trying to keep the conversation going, but he wasn't cooperating. However, he wasn't exactly chomping at the bit to get going either.

After another half-hour I reminded Edward that he'd never actually answered my question about what turned him on.

"Lots of things turn me on," he said vaguely.

"Like this?" I lifted my shirt and flashed him unexpectedly.

"Mostly I'm turned on when girls aren't _trying_ to turn me on," he told me. "Though there are some exceptions," he mumbled.

"Like what?"

"Well…like if you're making out with a girl and she's really going at it…putting a lot of effort into it – I guess that's a turn on."

"You sound like a girl."

"See, that's why I didn't want to tell you. I knew you'd say that shit."

I laughed. "I'm only messing with you. I enjoy kissing and stuff. It's just rare to find a good kisser. Guys can't kiss worth shit."

"I'm a great kisser."

"You think you're great at everything."

"I just know what I've been told." Edward smirked at me and I knew he was joking…I think. Either way, it made me curious.

"When you stand at the popcorn counter, when you're waiting for it to start popping, and you kind of chew your bottom lip and stare off into space…that's kinda sexy," Edward revealed suddenly.

I wasn't expecting him to say anything at all, let alone something so, for lack of a better word, sweet. It left me momentarily speechless. But then I didn't want him to think that I'd had a problem with what he'd said, so I rushed to fill the chasm of quiet between us with random words.

"I know what else you're good at. Physics. And I desperately need a partner…"

"Ugh," Edward rested his head against the driver side headrest. "I told you I work alone."

"I'd do it alone, too, if it wasn't going to affect my participation grade. Come on, Edward. I'd help you."

There was a moment of contemplation while Edward pretended to consider what I'd asked. He finally relented, but only under the condition that we do no work outside of school hours.

Fine by me.

I sighed and craned my neck to get a look at the clock on Edward's dashboard. I knew that if I didn't get home soon my mother was going to call in the FBI to look for me.

"Well, I'd better get going," I told him.

"Yeah, me, too."

But neither of us moved. And then I did something really weird.

I leaned in for a kiss.

And even more strange – Edward returned the action and our lips came together over the swanky center console of his Cadillac Coupe.

And he wasn't lying.

Edward was a _great_ kisser.

It was as if his lips were long lost puzzle pieces, finally rescued from afar and being welcomed back where they belonged. His caress was forceful and passive, needy and giving, rough and soft, selfish and compromising, torrid and sweet. It fed me and made me hungry for more at the same time – I couldn't get enough.

Tentatively, as I indulged on what Edward was offering my mouth, I moved my hand to rest on his knee. When he didn't break his stride, my fingers crawled a little higher on his thigh. I kept up the ascension until my palm was at his crotch. And then, while partaking of a searing kiss from Edward, I slowly began to rub the area where his erection should have met my touch.

Only it didn't.

Despite that, I didn't stop rubbing, and Edward didn't ask me to.

At least, not until I went for the snap on his jeans.

"Bella. Don't." He moved my hand away.

It broke our connection, but only temporarily. We went our separate ways that night, only to come together again the next night, and the night after that, and every night for two straight weeks. Each time, we tried something new as we both became more and more desperate to see Edward restored. Whatever he asked of me, I did. Fondling myself; pinching and pulling my nipples; masturbating with the vibrator while he watched; letting him touch me while we watched porn on his computer in the backseat of his car; touching him (over his underwear) while we listened to some of the earlier recordings we'd made.

None of it made any difference, except that Edward was growing more and more angry and less and less hopeful for any permanent solution to his problem. I was trying to be as optimistic as I possibly could, but secretly, I was beginning to think that the medication had permanently damaged Edward.

"Maybe if we try-"

"Just fuckin' forget it, Bella, okay?" Edward bellowed after two weeks with no improvement. "Just shut the fuck up about all your little lame-ass moves and techniques. It doesn't work. None of this shit works. I never should have fuckin' listened to you in the first place. Like you ever know what the hell you're talking about."

Edward completely ignored me during our entire shift, and if that wasn't bad enough, he joined forces with Ronnie and made snide remarks at my expense all through the night. I planned to confront him as soon as we locked up the theater, but Edward stomped off to his car and left me reeling with unshed aggressions.

I'm used to Edward's tantrums, and I understood the motivation behind his words and actions; how scared and alone he must have felt. But that understanding still didn't stop the words he'd assaulted me with from stinging a little bit…okay, a lot.

My lame-ass moves and I moseyed on back to Forks, where I made up some dumb excuse about having allergies to explain my red eyes and foul demeanor to my mother. I told her I felt wiped out and that I just wanted to go to bed. No, I wasn't crying over Edward. It's just that he'd made me mad, and my eyes always water and get red when I'm mad.

Nonetheless, even though I'd lied about why I was feeling the way I was feeling, I _was_ exhausted and I went to bed pretty early, only to lie there for a good portion of the night plotting my revenge on Edward. I had finally concocted a halfway decent scheme of retribution when my cell phone rang at nearly eleven o'clock that night.

"Bella?" He voiced in a tense whisper.

"Oh hell no," I cursed. There was no way he was going to call me, after the way he'd treated me, and offer a simple 'I'm sorry'. There was absolutely nothing he could say that would make me give him the time of day at this hour of the night.

"I…uh…I think I'm cured."

"What?" I sat up straight in my bed, instantly forgetting that he was my sworn enemy.

"I'm cured," he repeated and this time I could hear the excitement in his voice.

"What do you mean you're cured? You're…"

"Yeah."

The neighbor's dog started barking then and it was as if I was hearing it in stereo.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"Sitting in my car across the street from your house. Can I come up?"

I wanted to tell him that what he could do was stick his now erect penis up his ass and hightail his multiple-personality-disorder-having-self back to Satan's lair where he belonged. I wanted to tell him that he couldn't be my friend one minute and then treat me like a leper the next. I wanted to tell him that I didn't give a flying fuck that he could actually fuck now. I wanted to tell him a lot of things, but I couldn't possibly focus on that _and_ how to get him into my bedroom without my mother waking up.

"Yeah. When you come along the back of the house, it's the first window on your left," I said.

I pushed out my screen and pushed open my window wide to welcome Edward and The Major into my room.


	10. Chapter 10

I quickly pulled off my underwear and tossed them underneath my bed and then resituated the long t-shirt I was wearing to cover up my body. I was innocently sitting on my bed like a girl who had no intentions at all when Edward's Converse sneaker came peeking beneath my curtains.

"This hut doesn't have a door?" Edward muttered along with a few swears as he struggled through my bedroom window.

"Ssshh! Do you want my mother to come in here?" That was the last thing I wanted to deal with tonight.

Usually when I had a guy in my bedroom for the first time, one of two things occurred. We either did this awkward dance around one another – kind of a cursory pre-fuck ritual, or we ravished one another immediately and then went on our merry way.

Neither of those things happened with Edward. Instead, he took a seat at my desk like he'd been in my room a million times and turned to face me like I should be impressed with his presence.

"Is this a booty call?" I asked him bluntly.

"I don't know. Is it?" He asked.

"Don't play games with me, Edward. You were a total prick tonight and now that your fuckin' dick gets hard you come running to me like I should give a damn."

"Oh, don't be such a girl," Edward rolled his eyes. "You're going to sit over there and pretend that you don't want this as bad as I do? You know you do; I can see it in your eyes, smell it on your skin…I can practically hear your pussy begging for it. You were working as hard as I was to make this happen."

I looked to my left and my right but the only blunt object I saw was an antique lamp my grandmother had given me and Edward certainly wasn't worth that. I got up so quickly and crossed the room that my shirt rode up and he saw that I wasn't wearing anything underneath. However, the furor on my face caused the smug look he wore to disintegrate.

"Okay, let's get something straight right now," I got within inches of his face, "I'm not the one who had a limp dick two hours ago and is now fuckin' crawling through a fuckin' bedroom window wanting to get laid. Second of all, I didn't have to do what I did for you, Edward, and I don't appreciate you throwing it in my face like I'm some bimbo you fucked and ducked at a frat party. And lastly, if you have any aspirations of getting anywhere near that pussy that you can hear so well, then you'd better get on your knees and start groveling because I _am_ a girl and I damn well deserve to be treated like one."

Edward looked totally unaffected by my speech and for a minute I thought he was going to call my bluff and crawl right back out of my bedroom window. This wouldn't have been that detrimental, except that I'd taken a peek at his crotch and he was pitching a tent.

Actually, tent wasn't even the proper term. It was more like a pergola in his pants, and I wanted to experience _all _of that.

For a moment I thought he saw right through me, but then he made a slight move and slid to his knees before me on the floor. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for the groveling to begin even though, I have to admit, it was a little embarrassing. But I was determined to put up with it because I earned that shit and I wanted to hear this asshole tell me he was sorry for being such a dick.

Slowly Edward touched my legs and ran the tips of his fingers ever so softly over my calves, the back of my knees, my thighs. He looked up at me through piercing green puppy-dog eyes – yes, _eyes._ On this rare occasion, I could see both of them.

He opened his mouth slightly and my curiosity elevated to hear the Edwardesque apology.

Only he didn't say a word.

Instead, he plunged his face, mouth first, between my legs and started eating like it was his last meal, nearly knocking me over with the force of his approach.

"Shit!"

Usually, when a guy went down on me, it took a few seconds before it actually started to feel good, so I was thoroughly shocked, not only by the unanticipated act, but also by the fact that I was almost immediately ready to cum.

"Shit…" I muttered again as I buried my fingers in his soft hair and held his face right where I wanted it. "That feels so good," I moaned as he swirled his tongue against my clit.

As if my words encouraged him, he peeled back the layers of my pussy as if it were a citrusy fruit and began to suck and nip until my nectar covered his lips and chin. My knees buckled when he attacked my clit with an aggressive suction and I might have told him that he was the king, or some shit like that, as I felt the onslaught of my orgasm.

And then that motherfucker stopped.

"What the fuck?" He'd left me hanging in the worst way and I ached with what he'd denied me.

He stood up, drew me close to him and kissed me roughly; the taste and scent of my pussy coating my lips.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting to fuck you?" he whispered savagely against the corner of my mouth.

I reached down and encircled his monstrous cock with my fingers. He was long and thick and much more than I'd ever expected.

He hissed in appreciation of my tugging motion.

"How long?" I asked, not really wanting to wait for him to actually answer the question.

"Too long."

And then, in one swift thrust, he was inside of me.

Up until that point, I'm not quite sure what I was expecting from Edward. Sure, he'd proven himself to be somewhat of an expert on the topic of sex, but on the surface, a lot of teenaged guys appeared to be.

There was that knowledge of the G-spot that nudged him slightly ahead of the rest, but still, there was a large part of me that thought I knew more about sex than Edward did.

But then he started acting as Master and Commander of my body and I suddenly wasn't so sure.

First of all, we did it standing up and I was at a total disadvantage to prove my prowess. I had absolutely no control as he shifted my hips up and down to the rhythm of burying so deep inside me that I could almost hear his cock introducing itself to my fallopian tubes.

"Ah, fuck," I squeaked out when he'd touched upon a particularly tender spot.

"You like that?" he sneered against my ear. "You like the way I'm fucking you?"

His words sounded like a power play to me, and even though I liked what he was doing – a lot – I wasn't about to let him know that. Instead, I tightened my thighs around his hips and wondered if he could feel the pulse of the Kegel exercises I felt compelled to practice.

He responded by shifting over to my desk and perching me against it so that he could once again take full control of my body.

And take control he certainly did.

No longer supporting my full weight, he leaned back so that he could snake his hands between our bodies. His thumbs pressed down and forced my clit to bear the friction of his inward and outward thrusts.

"Aah!" I almost couldn't bear the intensity of the sensation. "Fuck!"

I was close again and after being brought to the brink and denied once, I didn't want anything to come between me and this orgasm. Therefore, I gave in. I submitted to what he was doing, leaned back on my elbows, put my heels on the edge of my desk, let my knees drop open wide and allowed Edward Cullen to fuck me like my mother wasn't just down the hall on the other side of these thin sheet-rocked walls.

During the act, Edward proved that, once again, he wasn't like most guys. Instead of watching my chest to see my boobs bouncing from the force of his hips, or looking down at the way his cock mercilessly pummeled my pussy, he watched me.

Intensely.

His green eyes burned into my brown like he could see into my soul. It was so disconcerting (PSAT vocabulary word, junior year) that I had to look away. He was making me feel more naked than I already was, which was pretty difficult considering the only thing I had on was a t-shirt that I was basically wearing as a necklace at the moment.

When my eyes left Edward's, they fastened to his mouth and I could tell by the minute jitters of his lips that he was close to cumming. And just watching his teeth persecute his lower lip seconds before his tongue darted out to soothe it was adding to the heat that was burning up my body.

"Mmm…" I moaned.

"You like it." His voice was low and slow as he sped up his motions and started ramming into me with brute force. "You like it when I fuck your pussy."

He was stonily confident as he whispered the words between us. No guy I'd ever been with had been so invulnerable – so sure, and I couldn't believe how sexy Edward looked to me in that moment. And that was saying a lot, considering this was _Edward._

He shuddered against me and I lifted my eyes and watched the precise moment when he shattered.

I also felt it.

"You forgot to put on a condom, dickhead." I couldn't yell at him so I fiercely whispered the last word.

"I didn't forget," Edward shrugged. "You're on the pill."

"So fucking what!"

"You said you don't have unprotected sex, so I knew you were clean."

"If you were a friend of mine, I'd slap you upside the head right now for saying something so dumb, but since I'm more concerned about _me_ and not you, I'd like to know why, if you knew I didn't like to have unprotected sex, you thought I'd like to start having it now."

"Bella?" a faint female voice called.

Edward looked at me with wide eyes and I pointed nonchalantly at my closet. Edward quickly ducked behind the closet door, leaving me just enough time to straighten my shirt and pick up my cell before my mother entered the room.

"Bella?" Renee peered into the open space.

"Hold on, Alice," I said into the phone and then turned to address my mother. "Yeah, Mom?"

"I thought I heard voices," Renee rubbed her arms and tried to look casual as she stared over my head. "Is your window open?"

"Yeah. I was hot," I shrugged off her statement as if it were completely normal to have the window open when it was so cold outside. "Alice, I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" I waited the appropriate length of time for the imaginary Alice on the other end to answer. "Alright…bye."

"It's a little late for phone calls," my mom said when I'd set my phone down.

"She's having a really hard time right now and she really needs a friend. I was at work all night so I wasn't able to talk to her."

I could see the therapist wheels turning in my mother's head, and she nodded and looked around. I could also see that she was trying to assess whether or not everything was as honky-dory as it seemed. Finally, when she couldn't find anything out of place – failing to see Edward's keys lying blazingly in the middle of my desk – she headed back towards the hall.

"Are you working tomorrow?" she tossed nonchalantly over her shoulder.

"I might get called in," I lied. There was a reason she was asking and I wanted to know what it was before I gave up the knowledge that I had a very much needed day off.

"Oh, okay. Well, call me on my cell when you know. I have an early case tomorrow."

Ah, so there it was. Renee was going to be out of the house early and probably for most of the day and she wanted to make sure I was occupied, aka supervised.

"Okay."

"Get some sleep, kiddo."

"You, too." And I would…right after round two.

When I was sure my mother was gone, I turned off the light and then opened my closet door for Edward.

"Whoa," he said of the sudden darkness. "Coast clear?"

"Yeah, keep your voice down," I admonished.

I crawled into my bed. I wasn't quite sure what I expected Edward to do, but I wasn't surprised when he got under the covers beside me.

"Your mom's a detective now or something?" Edward asked sarcastically.

"Not quite," I said, trying to remember if I'd previously told him what she did for a living.

"Doctors usually have patients, not cases. Unless it's your dad who's the doctor."

"Nope. I don't know what the hell my dad does, or where he is."

"So your mom works at Forks hospital?"

"Yeah, and some other clinics around town." I didn't want to get to deep into it in case his path had previously crossed my mother's; it wasn't far-fetched, since she'd had his file in her office. "Don't think I've forgotten about the condom, Cullen," I changed the subject.

He sighed and rolled over on his back. "I know you're clean, Bella. I wouldn't have went down on you if you weren't."

"Yes, I am. But I don't know that _you're_ clean."

"I am."

"Says you."

"You've been after my dick for weeks and _now_ you want to be discriminating?" When I gave him a dirty look that could even be seen in the darkness, he added, "Condoms have an odor. If I'd worn one, your mother would have smelled it when she came in here."

"Maybe so, but I should have at least been given the option."

He didn't respond and I laid there beside him in the darkness wondering if I should mount him or kick him out.

"You thought it was hopeless," he said suddenly.

"What?" I asked.

"You didn't say it," Edward continued as if I hadn't interrupted, "but I could see it on your face. Even though you were saying that everything was going to be okay, I could tell that you didn't believe it was going to work. I could tell that you thought the meds had permanently damaged me, and that pissed me off."

"Edward, I didn't think-"

"I hate people knowing my shit, Bella, and I was so mad at myself for telling you what was going on in the first place. I guess I took it out on you, even though you totally didn't deserve it."

"Damn straight."

He turned his head toward me and whispered, "Sorry for being a dick."

And much to my chagrin, I couldn't think of a single caustic remark, even though I wasn't completely satisfied with the apology.

His hand skimmed my naked thigh and it was as if that motion was my 'open sesame'. I climbed atop him and straddled his legs. I could feel his erection pressing against my ass as I shimmied down his body.

"Do you want me to wear a condom?" he murmured as he reached underneath my t-shirt and slid the pads of his thumbs over my nipples.

"Do you have one?"

"N-No." He stuttered his answer, as I was already sliding against him, impaling myself with his length.

If he was the king, I was about show him who the queen was.

And that is _exactly_ what I did.

We had wet, hot, dirty sex as the far off sun tipped its hat to a retreating moon and my none-the-wiser mother slept down the hall.

Twice.

And then, Edward re-introduced himself my G-spot.

"Apology accepted," I sighed blissfully as I collapsed against my pillow.

I slept peacefully and deep thereafter, and I didn't even stir when Edward climbed back out the way he'd come an hour later.


	11. Chapter 11

I lingered a bit in my bed the next morning, sore, but in all the right places. It had been a long time since I'd felt the traces of good lovin'. I'd have to remember to tip my hat to Edward the next time I saw him.

The pleasure of my memories of the night before followed me into the shower and I couldn't help smiling as I thought about the things Edward had done to me…and the expression on his face when I'd done certain things to him.

Not that I'd ever admit to it outside of those four bathroom walls, but I actually giggled as I remembered Edward's reaction when I'd mounted him for the third time less than ten hours ago.

"Where the fuck have you been all my life?" he'd growled with lust as my pussy slid down over him.

I loved it, but wondered how long, or even _if_ it would last. I'd been with many guys who'd said they wanted sex as often as I did, but they never could back up the talk. After a few rounds, they'd tell me how tired they were and then, to preserve their own dignity, each and every one of them tried to tell me that I was abnormal. None of the relationships had lasted long after that.

Not that Edward and I had a relationship – a point he did well to prove three days later when we were once again working the night shift at the theater.

Jasper, cured from whatever ailment that had required him to miss two shifts the week before, ambled toward the concession stand where Edward was busily wiping up the soda he'd spilled. Truthfully, he hadn't _actually_ spilled any soda. He'd been "busying" himself with all kinds of tasks since I'd come in the door and it was obvious that he was trying to avoid any type of conversation with me. I'd been here before with guys – that thin line between shame and blame, but I hadn't expected to be here with Edward.

Silly me. For a minute there I thought Edward was going to be different.

"So how do you know Craig?"

My head shot up because I _didn't_ know Craig, nor did I know what Jasper was talking about.

Lucky for me, that wasn't an issue since he wasn't talking to me.

I was surprised to see that Jasper was actually addressing Edward, and even stranger, Edward responded.

"He's my sister's boyfriend's best friend," Edward mumbled.

"Oh yeah?" Jasper asked. "When I saw you at the party, I wondered how your paths had crossed." Jasper went on to explain that the infamous Craig worked as a mechanic at one of Jasper's father's auto dealerships. "Small world, man."

"Yeah," Edward responded and I could tell he was making a small effort not to be rude. I wondered if Jasper would take the hint and stop pushing for conversation, but he didn't.

"So what'd you think of the party?"

_Party? What party?_

"It was pretty good," Edward said. If _he_ thought it was pretty good, it must have been quite the rager.

"It would have been better if it hadn't gotten busted up by the cops after only a couple hours."

"Craig's parties always get broken up. I don't know why he even bothers. His neighbors call the cops as soon as there's more than two cars parked in front of his house," Edward said.

I moved closer to the snack bar because I couldn't help but be interested in a party that would mix the Drugstore Cowboy with the Son of Sam. I mean, what kind of music is being played at a party that both Jasper and Edward would enjoy?

Before I could find out any more information, Alice walked in.

"Hey, Bella," she waved casually as she crossed over to Jasper. "You're off at nine, right?" she asked him.

I noticed that she didn't bother to say anything to Edward, and as soon as he saw her, he moved to the other side of the popcorn machine and started cleaning again.

Jasper quietly answered Alice, yet he didn't allow Edward to slither too far away. "There's another party on Friday night. It's at Craig's brother's house so it might actually last long enough for your buzz to take effect."

Edward almost smiled at that comment as he nodded that he already knew about the party. "I'm not paying to get in, though. That's lame."

I waited for someone to invite _me_ to said party, but nobody did, and when Edward posted the weekend's schedule later that night, I saw that it wasn't even a consideration, as I was scheduled to close Friday night.

"And for the record," I cornered Jasper later during my break, "it's rude to talk about a party in front of someone and not invite them."

"So come," Jasper shrugged.

"I can't. I have to close."

"It's not like the party'll be over. Come afterwards."

I swallowed back a lame retort about cumming afterwards and decided that I would accept Jasper's invitation, coerced or not. I didn't, however, say anything about it to Edward. I wanted to see if he would invite me on his own.

Instead, I took my cues from him and denied him the opportunity to avoid me by staying out of his way. Fortunately Alice hadn't left and I meandered over to the arcade to see what she and Jasper were up to.

Jasper was actually stuck trying to fix a jammed machine, so Alice was alone when I walked up to where she was standing at the front counter.

"Is that guy part of some help-the-handicapped program or what?" she asked me without taking her eyes off Ronnie.

"No, that's just Ronnie. He's beyond help," I told her as I looked over to see Ronnie vehemently arguing with an eleven-year-old boy about Play Station vs. Xbox. It looked like it was getting pretty heated.

Alice rolled her eyes at the idiocy of the people around us and returned her attention to me.

"Hiding out from Edward?"

I took my turn at rolling my eyes and shook my head. "I don't have to hide from him. He pretty much stays out of my way."

"Good."

But she didn't say it as if she had my best interests at heart, and that made me curious. What was it that she knew about Edward? She seemed to be so protective of him, yet at the same time, she didn't appear to like him very much.

"What do you have against him?" I asked, knowing that she wouldn't answer me the way I wanted her to.

"Nothing. He's just…not someone you want to get close with, that's all."

_Close with,_ not close to. _Interesting._

"Were the two of you…"

"Drop it, Bella. There's no story there. Nothing ever happened between me and Edward. We were just friends and now we're not. Funny, I'm getting a sense of déjà vu…"

"I know you told me that before. It just seems like there was something between you guys, that's all."

"Well there wasn't and there isn't."

Suddenly Jasper reappeared and something told me the topic of Edward was definitely taboo in front of him.

Sensing that they wanted to be alone, I left Alice and Jasper to themselves and went back to the theater. Edward looked over at me and I could see the effort behind his eyes as he tried to look aloof. Just like that, I was no longer interested in letting him have his way. He wanted to ignore me? Fine, but he was going to work for it.

"Popcorn need freshening up?" I asked, even though I knew it didn't.

"Nope," he answered.

"Good. I don't feel like bothering with it." I remembered what he'd told me, about how alluring I was to him when I stood by the popper and nibbled on my bottom lip absentmindedly.

So I did just that.

"How's that Physics project coming along?" I asked when I turned and caught him looking at me.

"Done."

"Cool. Can I see your notes? You know, in case there's a pop quiz or something?"

_Lip nibble._

"Uh…wha? Oh, uh, yeah," Edward stammered.

"Okay. I'll stop by your locker tomorrow."

He didn't respond. Instead, he mercilessly scrubbed a rag against the counter behind me, rubbing and buffing like a madman. As his activity brought him nearer to me, I noticed that his grip on the towel grew lighter, as he shifted to work with only one hand.

The string of bells on the door that signaled a customer had entered distracted me, and as I turned to look, I felt the soft graze of a hand against the seat of my pants. There was no way I could prove it was intentional, but I wasn't an idiot. I turned an accusing glare on Edward, only to see that the expression on his face was a stricken one – like the instant self-loathing of a repentant dieter unleashed in a donut shop.

"I-I'd like a ticket for the next sh-showing pl-please," stammered a middle-aged man who had pedophile written all over him.

"Last showing ended ten minutes ago," Edward responded without making eye contact.

The man looked for a moment like he was going to contest the information Edward had just given him, but then he realized the finality of it and shuffled out the door. As soon as he was gone, Edward thundered toward the break room, nostrils flaring, fists balled at his sides and size ten-and-a-half's stomping across the floor, incensed by the fact that he almost had to provide someone customer service.

If I hadn't had my fill of his immature, erratic behavior, I might have found him slightly entertaining. But as nights with Edward go, he was beginning to get on my nerves and the effort to keep from telling him off just wasn't worth it.

"Seriously, dude," I said when I entered the break room and found his seething form facing the back wall. "I don't want to have to have this conversation with you again," I said.

"What conversation is that?" he hissed.

"The one where I tell you that I'm not that girl you have to worry about things getting all weird with just because you've seen me naked."

"I know that."

"Then what the hell is wrong with you today?"

"How humble of you to assume it has anything to do with you."

"Don't even try it. If it didn't have anything to do with me, it would have been Jasper you were treating like the invisible man earlier, not me."

"Jasper and I actually had something relevant to talk about, unlike you and me at this very moment."

He was being smug and uncharacteristically snobby. It made me curious, so I was too focused on uncovering his motivation to get angry.

"So you two are friends now?" I asked of Jasper.

Edward shrugged.

"What's the shelf-life on that, anyway? Friendship with you? Because the way I see it, it has an expiration date of…oh, I dunno, two weeks?"

"Pretty much," Edward answered flippantly.

"So, you're tolerable until you get what you want out of somebody and then you turn back into a dick. Is that it?"

"I guess." Edward spoke with little effort as he intently read over the labor law chart posted on the wall.

"Or maybe it's a case of getting exactly what you think you want, and then not being able to handle it. That's it, isn't it?"

"Whatever you say," Edward shrugged.

"Yeah. I think that's it. Every guy thinks they want that no-strings-attached physical relationship, but as soon as they get it, it messes with their manhood and makes them feel all insecure." I moved closer to him. "It hurts your pride that I don't want anything more than sex from you, doesn't it?"

"Nope."

"Sure it does. That's your role. You're supposed to be the love 'em and leave 'em person, but I am and that makes you nervous. That makes you wonder what's wrong with you – not that I don't want you, but that you _care_ that I don't want you."

"I'll probably cry rivers about it this very night," Edward said with forced boredom.

He wanted to appear undeterred by my words but the almost unnoticeable trembling of his hands and the throbbing vein at his temple revealed otherwise. I was just beginning to enjoy myself when my next words hit pay dirt.

"I guess I get it," I pretended to be understanding. "I mean, I'd be a little uneasy, too, if I wasn't able to take advantage of complication-free sex without a major mental meltdown."

"Shut the fuck up, Bella!" he rounded on me and backed me up against the wall. "Just .!"

Okay, truly, this amount of rage was unwarranted. True, I had been enjoying myself, but I knew that he knew that I was just razzing him. Even though a reaction had been my goal, I wasn't trying for _this_ reaction…

"You think I don't want to fuck you?"

…okay, maybe I was.

"You think I haven't been thinking about fucking you every minute of every hour that's passed since the last time I fucked you?" The force of his breath pelted my cheek as his words seethed down through clenched teeth.

"I think you're all talk," I looked up at him and batted my lashes brazenly.

"And so are you," Edward hissed as he shoved me backwards.

I stumbled a bit as I came into contact with the hard surface, but I recovered just as Edward grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down on my knees.

"You want to be used?" he spat out angrily. "Huh?"

I was rendered speechless as he held me pressed to the floor with one hand while the other reached furiously toward his zipper. I watched with awe and lust as he freed himself – that firm, cock that looked even more delectable than the last time I'd seen it – and plunged himself toward my lips.

I didn't even make him ask before I opened up and, relaxing my throat, I swallowed him whole.

"I can fuckin' use you, if that's what you want." His words came out in venomous spurts as he rhythmically rammed into my mouth with such force that my eyes watered.

I stole a glance up at him and he was watching me – watching what he was doing to me as his hands seized the sides of my face; his intense stare held a windfall of desire, pleasure, and just an inkling of self-hatred.

"Is this what you fuckin' want? Huh?" he sneered. "You want me to fuck you? I'll fuck you; fuck that pretty little mouth of yours."

He tasted divine. The perfect combination of salty and tart…I salivated from the want of him and I could feel other parts of my body dampening from my need.

"You like having my dick down your throat?" He flattened his palms against the back of my head and quickened his pace. "Suck my dick…._mmm_…yeah, suck it…"

I grew ravenous with yearning and suddenly the pretense of letting him think he was in control was unbearable.

My hands slid up his jean-clad legs to the snap on his pants. I unclamped it and reached for his underwear, pushing away the barrier of the clothing. I cupped him; teased him; licked him and sucked him hard until I heard the sounds that revealed what we both knew:

There was no predator and prey in this charade. The give and take between us lasted only long enough for the other to decide to submit, only to retract and dominate moments later.

I felt him start to quaver, and as his movements began to shift in tempo, I knew he was on the brink of cumming.

I tightened the grasp of my lips on his girth and ever so slightly scraped the underside of his dick with my teeth.

"_Ah…motherfuckin' shit…" _he expelled tersely as his hands moved from my face to grip the wall behind me. "Mmm…._Fuck."_

I watched him for the moment of his release, waited for its flavor. I studied him as he gave in to the baseness – the shock of dark hair that was so at odds with the fair hue of his skin and the ember locks that funneled down to his groin; the intense jade gaze that had darkened to that of water-logged foliage; the rapid, ravaged breathing that destroyed the illusion of power.

After a series of guttural grunts, he spilled into me and I accepted every last drop.

Afterward, as he leaned against the wall to collect himself, I wiped my mouth and took in his long, rigid fingers before I lifted my eyes to the soft, pink tongue that darted out against his bottom lip. I wondered which would be his tool of restitution, and in that moment, I couldn't decide which I wanted more. Did I want to feel the unyielding force of his fingers as they speared me? Or the salacious sting of his fingertips against my clit? Maybe I was craving something more titillating, like the languid, tugging suction of his mouth buried between my legs?

He turned to face me then, and I met his stare. I hoped that he could read the longing on my face because I didn't know how much-

"Hey, Edward?"

We heard Jasper's voice mere seconds before we saw him. I didn't even have enough time to look down to see if I was all put together before he burst into the break room. Edward immediately spun around so that his back was turned and I could see that he looked down to make sure his pants were buttoned and zipped.

"I've been lookin' all over for you. There's some guy in the arcade rantin' and ravin' about getting a refund because the machine didn't give him his extra points. What do I do?"

"I'll take care of it." Edward pushed past both Jasper and I and disappeared out of sight.

In that instant, I actually hated Jasper. No, hate wasn't even a strong enough word. His timing was reprehensible and I wanted some part of his body maimed in retribution.

"You alright?" he cocked one eyebrow at me.

_No, you motherfuckin' cockblocker! I am most certainly not alright!_

"What do you mean?" I managed instead.

"Well…you look…I mean…when I came in here, it looked like you and Edward were…"

"What?" I dared him. "It looked like me and Edward were what?"

"Well, you're all…I mean, your face is…" Jasper gestured in my vicinity. "What _were_ you guys doin'?" he grinned.

"Arguing," I shrugged.

"Arguing?"

"Yeah. Edward keeps threatening to fire me and I've had just about all I can take of it. Just because he's the owner's nephew, it doesn't mean he can make me work all the crappy shifts, and I told him that."

"Oh." Jasper looked skeptical. "Don't you guys usually work the same shift?"

This would be a lot easier if he weren't so sharp.

"Technically, he's been training me this whole time. He's about to set me loose on this crazy closing shift by myself," I lied.

"Then what's he going to work? Because of school, there won't be much left over for him. He's going to give you all of his hours?" Jasper frowned.

I had to think fast, because Jasper was right. Edward _would_ still be around. How would I explain that?

"I think Edward's paid the same amount whether he's here or not. He was complaining to his aunt that he has to be here every weekend and it's not fair. She said she'd switch off with him, but I haven't seen her since. Meanwhile, she's told Edward to train me. And tonight he told me that he thinks I'm ready to take over the Friday _and_ Saturday night shifts. Like I don't have a life, too, ya know? That shithead," I added for dramatic effect.

"He gets paid even when he's not here? How's _that_ work?" Jasper asked.

"Salary. He has a title, remember?"

"Assistant Manager. I forgot."

Edward returned just then and interrupted our conversation. I was quick in my attempt to clue Edward in on our alibi before Jasper said something and ruined our cover. I wasn't quite sure how much, if anything, Jasper had seen, but he seemed to be buying the shit I was shoveling.

"I told Jasper about our argument and he's on my side." My eyes bored into Edward's as I spoke. "He thinks it's completely unfair to make me close every weekend."

"Jasper can take your side all he wants, but he's not your boss," Edward said without missing a beat. I was so proud of him for catching the unspoken communication I'd delivered that I didn't bother to point out that technically he wasn't my boss either.

I half-listened as Edward turned his attention to Jasper and explained how he'd handled the disgruntled customer. Then, when Jasper said his goodbye for the night, I waited for Edward to give the sign that he was ready to pick up where we'd left off.

"This is getting out of hand," he muttered bitterly.

_Oh no you don't!_

"How's it getting out of hand? He doesn't suspect a thing," I waved in the direction Jasper had just departed from.

"I can't _do_ this!" Edward hissed as he gestured between the two of us. "It's too…we just can't."

"In case you haven't already noticed, we already _have_." My libido was surging out of control and anger was beginning to nudge my lust aside.

"Tonight has shown me that we're too sloppy. We weren't even thinking. Jasper walked in –"

"And saw nothing," I interjected. "And remind me why this has to be this big secret. I mean, I know I have my reasons for not shouting it from the rooftops." I kept those reasons to myself. If his mind filled in the blanks by suggesting I thought I was too good for him, that was fine by me. His rebuffs were hurting my pride more than I cared to admit. It was only fair to let his suffer a little. "But if Jasper thinks we hooked up, so what. What's the big deal?"

"The fact that you even have to ask me that question reveals to me just how big the deal really is."

"Edward, what the hell-"

"Bella, I'm locking up. I need to be home by nine and even if I'd left ten minutes ago, I'd still be late."

Edward took that flat mono-syllabic tone that told me he was done.

"I don't know what your problem is," I said to his back as he walked away from me. "Jasper didn't even see anything!"

I sounded needy and pathetic and it pissed me off.

And by Thursday I was even _more_ pissed off because not only had Edward taken me off Wednesday's schedule at the theater and hindered my much-needed cash supply, but also, Alice had confronted me in English, signaling that Edward had been right. We had been sloppy on Monday night.

"I thought you said you were staying away from Edward," Alice cut to the chase.

"If you and Jasper don't have anything better to do than talk about me and Edward, you two have a thing or three hundred to learn about being in a relationship," I quipped.

"Who said this had anything to do with Jasper?" Alice narrowed her eyes at me smugly as if I'd given something away.

_Give it up,amateur._

"_I_ say it has something to do with Jasper because he was grilling me about being in the break room with Edward Monday night, and just like a southern gossip, I knew he'd turn tail and run to you, waggin' his tongue, even though I told him Edward and I were arguing over my schedule."

"Turn tail and waggin' his tongue?" Alice grimaced at me. "You sound like Jasper's grandma."

"Yeah, well, I'm right, aren't I? He told you something was up?"

"He said he saw you guys kiss," Alice peered at me as she enunciated the last word.

"Proof that he's not as perfect as you think he is. He can't see worth shit because I definitely didn't kiss Edward." _On the lips, anyway._

"You know, I never would have told you about the job if I thought you'd hook up with Edward."

"I'm not hooking up with Edward." _At least not at this very second._

"You swear?"

"Yes!" I yelled as I tossed my head back in amusement. "Gosh, what is it with you and Edward? I mean, what if I did kiss him? Why the hell would you care so much?"

"I wouldn't. I just don't like to be lied to."

"No, that's bullshit. You're the most secretive person I've ever met and secretive people respect other people's boundaries. When they sense someone doesn't want to reveal something, the last thing they try to do is weasel it out of them. Therefore, I deduce that you, my friend, have a personal interest in what I do or do not do with Edward."

"Deduce? Been watching Wheel 'O Fortune there, Bella?"

"Don't change the subject."

But Alice clammed up like she always did and didn't tell me a damn thing. I didn't give her anymore hell for it, though because I was just as glad to drop the subject.

With her, at least. I made an attempt to get some information from Edward, sure that he would reveal some fatal attraction crush Alice had once had on him, but all I succeeded in doing was finding out the extent of his deep freeze.

Edward wouldn't even acknowledge my existence. If I came near him, he either crossed to the other side of the path or turned and went in another direction entirely. Eye contact was out of the question and on Friday I showed up to work to find out that he'd traded his shift with Denise.

"Fuck him," I mumbled.

I'd had enough. I mean, who went through all this mental anguish for someone she wasn't even dating – didn't even _want_ to date!

Sure, Edward was a good lay, but he's not the be all, end all. I could find someone else. I _should_ find someone else!

I smiled to myself as I realized that the only reason I'd been so fixated on Edward was because he'd made himself "forbidden" to me and I didn't understand why. Figuring out the mystery had kept me interested.

"Well no more," I said aloud. This girl was getting back to the basics. The next guy I met was going to make me forget I ever laid eyes on _The Creature from the Devil's Lagoon_.

And what better place to meet someone than at a party?

"Night , Denise," I called as we parted ways in the parking lot that night. I'd spent the last twenty minutes or so in the bathroom changing into my attire for the night. Denise, who hadn't said one thing to me all evening, merely grunted as she made her way to her oversized, ancient Le Sabre which was parked across the lot from my car. I made a pretense of waiting for her to safely get to her car before I drove off, but really, I was studying the directions I'd written down to Craig's house.

Seriously, it was too easy for a stranger to get a guy's address out of his friends. All I had to do was call the auto shop at the dealer and tell the bonehead who answered that me and a few of my sorority sisters from California had heard that Craig threw awesome parties and that he was having one, "this very night". Don't ask me why my California accent made me sound like I was from the deep south, but this guy didn't ask either. Instead, he rattled off the way to Craig's brother's house so quickly that I had to have him repeat it twice. I'd felt stupid at the time, but as I pulled up to the given address with little to no effort, I was thankful for my persistence.

When I laid eyes on the one-story, blue plank house that seemed to be tilting to one side, it wasn't hard to see why there were more people outside than there were inside. The house was small by conservative estimates, and the yellow caution tape that roped off the sinking side left even less of a mingling area.

I found myself scouring the row of parked cars lining the street for Edward's Cadillac before I sternly reminded myself that _he_ wasn't my goal tonight. I focused in on the lawn that was teeming with people and searched for my next distraction instead.

I mean my next adventure. I don't need to be distracted from Edward. He's not _that_ important.

The skinny jeans and nearly sheer white v-neck top I wore didn't seem to set me apart that much for the rest of the crowd, and for that I was thankful. I didn't want anyone to see me before I wanted them to.

By _anyone_, I mean anyone I want to meet. Not Edward. I'm not even thinking about _him._

I spotted Jasper soon after I arrived in the back corner of the yard, and of course Alice wasn't far from him. I stood and watched her interact with the few people that surrounded them and was pleased to see that she didn't treat them that much differently than she treated me. When I saw her start to look around, like she was searching for someone, I ducked behind a crowd of people. Like I said, I didn't want to be seen until I wanted to be seen.

Someone shoved a beer into my hand as I walked through the backdoor of the house and I stupidly took a swig of it before I remembered that it wasn't smart to drink from a bottle of beer that I hadn't seen be uncapped. I relegated it to a prop instead and poured out some of the alcohol whenever a convenient moment presented itself.

The music was hodge-podge, but tolerable, and I watched a few people dance with forced interest as I listened to it and got a feel for the crowd. There were a few cute guys and a few that looked like Craig had done them a favor just by allowing them to be in attendance. The women I saw – because they all looked a lot older than me – didn't appear to be that interested in the men around them, so I felt pretty confident that I wouldn't have any trouble scoring one for the night.

_Now I'm starting to recognize myself again._ It'd been a long time since I'd been on the prowl and it felt damn good.

A neatly groomed head of dark blonde hair caught my attention and I was pleased to see that the rest of him looked as good as his hair did. A t-shirt that might have been more comfortable if it were one size larger did well to show off arms and an upper body that was well toned and masculine. He smiled, and his straight teeth sparkled in the dim light. The long, lean line of denim that framed his legs kept me watching as he made his way to the keg of beer in the corner and I found myself straining over the crowd to get a glimpse of his ass.

"Wait for it…" I narrated my own expedition as a familiar dark hoodie momentarily blocked my field of vision.

My head snapped to my left. And even though his hair was tucked into a hat, I'd know those well-worn black jeans and those leather Converse anywhere.

I tried to pull my eyes away, but I couldn't. I couldn't stop watching the way he casually held the bottle of Dos Equis beer in his hand; the laid-back way he leaned against the wall and most shockingly, the unencumbered way he spoke to the fat little trollop that seemed to be hanging on his every word.

Yeah, he was actually _talking_ to her!

At least I think it was a her. She had boobs and everything, but she also had a spare tire that rivaled any middle-aged man's. The only loose area on her black skinny jeans were across her nonexistent ass. The lime green t-shirt that played peek-a-boo with a black fishnet jacket was about the only color I saw on her, unless you count the turquoise streaks in her hair. She was about has pale as a ghost, and judging by the wide berth everyone else was giving her, about as welcomed as one.

Everyone, that is, except Edward.

Seriously, what did he see in her? Was she one of his fuck buddies, too? Did he do all types of sordid things with her and tape it? What did she have to offer him? And more importantly, what did she have to offer that I didn't?

Wait, who cares! I certainly don't!

I turned my attention back to the hottie I'd been ogling earlier, but he was nowhere in sight. Flustered, I grabbed the first girl-less guy I saw and asked him if he wanted to dance. He looked pleased that I'd asked, but that's about all I noticed about him as I pulled him out in the middle of the floor and realized a little too late that the music was much too fast for this rhythm-less white girl.

Thankfully, he had rhythm and he made me look a lot better than I should have. He was eager and lively and friendly. I probably would have been enjoying myself if I could stop wondering if Edward had seen me and if he was watching me. But I wouldn't dare allow myself to look. I couldn't let him know that I'd spotted him. Not yet.

So I danced.

And I did keg stands.

And I danced some more.

And the whole fuckin' time, Edward talked to that anomaly at his side.

I was just about to call it a night when I walked out onto the porch and spotted the beautiful specimen from earlier. He was standing in a group that included a few girls, but it didn't seem as if he were with any of them. I leaned against the house, held my beer bottle as if I'd just taken a sip and stared him down. When he glanced in my direction I didn't look away. He did, but only to look back seconds later.

The edge of his lip turned up in a grin and I offered him a slight smile in return – not too eager, but not off-putting.

After a respectable amount of time, he walked over to me.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"You a friend of Craig's?"

"Nope."

"How'd you hear about the party?"

"Couple of friends told me about it."

"Oh really? Is that who you came with?"

_Smooth._

"Nah. I didn't actually come with anybody."

"Yeah, me either."

_Oh this could take all night._

"I guess who you come with isn't nearly as important as who you leave with, eh?" _Let's move things along a bit, shall we?_

That seemed to be exactly what he wanted to hear, and he turned his body toward me and flashed me a kilowatt smile.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Bella."

"Well, hello, Bella. I'm Calvin. Everyone just calls me Cal."

"Calvin." I made it a point not to use his nickname. I didn't like it.

"So…you live around here?"

"Why? You plan on taking me home?"

Calvin laughed. "You're something else, you know that?"

I was just on the fringe of telling him exactly what else I was (horny, for those unable to read between the lines) when the front door opened and out came Edward, followed by his fat goth princess. He walked over to the edge of the porch, leaned against the railing, and then resumed his conversation.

Prick.

"Bella?"

"Oh, huh?" Calvin had been speaking and I hadn't heard a word he said.

"I asked if you went to school around here."

"Oh." I knew better than to tell this very manly guy that I was still in high school. "Nope. I actually am thinking about taking some classes at U-Dub in the spring."

"Really?" Calvin asked with interest. "Their football team is looking pretty good this year."

"You play?"

"Not this year. Knee injury."

My eyes trailed down his leg to his knee and then all the way up, pausing at his crotch, to his face. "Too hurt to play, then?"

"Nope." He caught my double entendre and smiled. "I'm just going to give my friend his car keys and what do you say you and me get out of here?"

"Sounds good to me." It took all the effort I had not to look over at Edward as I spoke.

Calvin disappeared into the house and I pulled my keys out of my pocket in preparation of taking off with him. I wondered if I should make a show of being so hot for him that I needed him to take me in the back seat of my car. It would probably be safer than heading back to his place.

A small part of me was wondering if I would even go through with it when Edward whizzed by me and walked back into the house. His vamp-friend stayed put and I wondered if she was waiting for him. _Was he truly going to hook up with her?_

I could barely stomach the thought. What had I done that put him off so much that he'd rather be with her than me? I'm being honest, not vain. I know I'm not the most beautiful person in the world, but I do have a general grasp of the concept of cleanliness, which is more than I could say for Edward's friend.

As if to prove my point, she reached behind her and pulled at her ass crack, resituating what was probably a super-sized thong. Then she whipped out a cigarette, lit it and surrounded herself in a cloud of smoke.

She was probably imagining her lips wrapped around his dick instead of that cancer stick.

_So what._ Not my problem. I had Calvin.

My inspection of the Dame of Darkness ended when I noticed that a car with a driver that had announced he was going on a beer run over fifteen minutes ago, had returned. A guy emerged toting two brown paper sacks and a six-pack under each arm.

"Where is he?" I inquired out loud as I spun back toward the house and went to look for Calvin.

It didn't take much effort to find him. He was back with the same crowd he'd been with the first time I'd seen him, and the frosty red cup he held indicated that he didn't have plans to vacate the premises anytime soon.

The fact that I felt an overwhelming sense of relief at the idea of being abandoned was only slightly disturbing. What was even more unsettling was the emotion of defeat. I had no interest in finding out what Calvin's reason for ditching me was, nor did I feel any motivation to find a replacement for him. All I wanted to do was go home. I don't know what kind of parties Craig usually threw, but this one was a super dud.

I was at the makeshift "beverage bar" grabbing a Dr. Pepper for the road when a wall of beefcakes fenced me in and blocked my exit. They had their backs to me and as I caught snippets of their conversation, it was clear that they weren't aware of my presence. I listened as one guy complained about his aching biceps, another about saving his friend from a jailbait-hookup, and yet another about how he wasn't having another beer because "Rosalie is staying over and I need to be on my A-game tonight."

Well at least somebody was getting laid; in a practice that was becoming far too common, it wasn't me.

I'd heard my fill of the brain-draining conversation and I headed out of the party for the last time. As I walked down the porch steps, I barely made note of the fact that Edward had moved to the sidewalk and I would have to pass him and that bitch on my way to my car.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Miss Boogie Nights," he taunted as I slid by him.

So he had been watching me when I was dancing with those guys. _Good._

_ No, not good! I don't care what Edward thinks!_

I would have been able to ignore his comment completely, except that freak he was talking to laughed and that pissed me off.

"Go to hell, Edward." And then, to Burnout Barbie, I added, "And who the fuck are you?" I totally didn't care that she probably outweighed me by fifty pounds.

Instead of answer me, she looked over at Edward, and I could see her admiration for him in her eyes.

Anger washed over me, and my misunderstanding of the emotion enraged me even more.

"Are you one of his website girls, too?" I struck out at her again. That sure wiped the smug expression off Edward's face.

"Bella." His tone held a warning.

"Edward," I warned him right back.

When our staring contest got boring, I turned away from him and began to walk to my car.

"I'll see you later, Linds. I've gotta get going," I heard him say.

"O-okay, Edward. I-it was good seeing you again," the misfit stuttered.

_Pathetic._

"What are you doing here, anyway?" I hadn't even heard him catch up to me. Another one of his demon tricks, no doubt.

"What do you mean 'what am I doing here'? It's a fuckin' party, isn't it?" I didn't bother to slow my stride as I spoke.

"Name one person you know here," he challenged.

"Jasper, Alice, Craig." I intentionally didn't name Edward.

"What does Craig look like?" he called my bluff.

"Go fuck yourself, Edward. Or even better, go fuck that bitch you've been with all night. I'm sure the plethora [PSATs, junior year] of STDs her vag is housing will give you a nice, slow burn."

When Edward remained silent, I couldn't refrain from looking over at him to make sure he hadn't missed the fact that I'd just insulted him.

I was shocked to see a look of amusement on his face.

"And here I thought jealousy was beneath you," he feigned incredulity.

"Jealous? Who the fuck is jealous? And of what?" I sneered.

"Oh, I think we both know who's jealous," Edward continued to goad me.

And it was fucking working. Nothing he was saying was witty or ingenious, but it was really making me mad. But try as I might, I couldn't think of a single thing to say in return. All I could do was get angry.

Angry that he'd left me high and dry (well, actually pretty wet) earlier that week.

Angry that I couldn't stop thinking about the way he made me feel; the way he looked when he came; the way he looked at me when he made me cum.

Angry that I hadn't been angry about not being able to close the deal with Calvin; angry that I didn't seem to be affecting him at all.

And extremely angry that while he looked as if he was going to burst out into gales of laughter, I felt like I was going to burst into tears.

Not able to express any of this in words, I went for the next best thing.

I slapped him across the face.

"Fuck you, Edward."

And then I started crying.

Furious tears streaked down my face as I rushed to my car. When I rounded the corner, my hands were shaking so badly that I could barely hold onto my keys as I tried to unlock the door. I was so focused on that task that I was completely blindsided by Edward when he spun me around and pinned me up against my car.

"You don't know when to let things go!" he yelled at me, completely unfazed by my tears.

"Get the fuck away from me!" I attempted to fight him off, but to no avail. He had a firm grip of my wrists and even with my best efforts, he was completely overpowering.

"Which is it, huh, Bella? You want me to fuck you or you want me to go away? You can't have it both ways," he jeered.

I tried to kick him but his body was too close to mine and all I managed was to knock my knee against his.

"Tell me to go away. Tell me to leave you alone. Tell me you never want to talk to me again," he derided. "Tell me!"

"Like you'd listen." I wanted my voice to sound as intimidating as his, but I sounded sheepish and whiny by comparison.

"Just tell me. Tell me and mean it, damnit!"

"Why don't I tell you I want you, instead? That seems to be your kryptonite."

"Fuckin', Bella!" he let go of one of my wrists to tug on his hair in frustration. "You think this is easy for me? I can't be with you!"

"Why not?" Up until that moment, I hadn't known that was what I wanted.

"Because!"

"Because? Because what? You don't seem to have a problem being with anyone else except for me," I cried as the image of Edward laughing and talking with that tramp at the party flashed through my mind.

"Exactly," his agreement was contemptuous. "I don't have a problem _not_ being with anyone except for you. I don't have a problem _not_ thinking about anyone else…just you." The way he whispered the last two words mirrored the vanquished way I felt where he was concerned, and when I looked up into his eyes, I saw it there as well.

All of my experiences, encounters, adventures – not one of them had given me a reference point to deal with the jumble of mixed emotions racing through me. I was happy and terrified and confused and enlightened and empty and full. I had so much to say, and at the same time, nothing at all.

I waited for a cue from Edward as I listened and observed the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he heaved against me. I eyed his lips, torrid and parched, and achingly close to my own.

"Just say it," he begged. "Say I can't have you."

I lifted my free hand to the back of his neck and watched as his eyes slammed shut with determination.

"Have me," I softly coaxed as I brought my lips to his.

His protests were drowned out by my mouth and it only took mere seconds before he stopped denying what we both wanted and started kissing me back.

His kisses were vicious and fierce as he held on to the last shards of self control. But as our tongues began to tussle for control, I felt the change in his demeanor. He let go of my other wrist and drew my body closer to his.

He was hard and I pressed myself up against him in yearning. In the distance, I could hear laughter and bleating horns as people came and went from the party, but I didn't care. Edward's hands were manipulating the fastenings on my jeans and the want I was experiencing was overriding.

I wanted him to strip me; ravage me; take me; fuck me.

I just wanted him.

Scratch that. I wanted more than him. I wanted him to _want_ me, too.

No. No. Forget I said that. That's not true. I just wanted to fuck him. That's it. That's all I wanted. Yeah. Nothing else, but that.

I increased the fervor of my kisses as I went for the button and zipper on his jeans and then slipped my hand inside. He did the same to me and I let out a moan of exquisite pleasure when he wasted no time plunging two fingers into my pussy.

My hands grew clumsy as his thumb toyed with my clit and I could barely get him free of his boxer shorts.

"Not here," he said breathlessly as he held my hand still on him.

"Yes, here." _Now. Quickly, before I tell you something I'll regret. _

"People…"

"Who cares?" I challenged as I began sucking on his neck.

But Edward's mind didn't seem to be as foggy as mine, and he opened the passenger door of my car and shoved me inside. I watched, dazed, as he then folded himself into the driver's side and started the car.

"This car has absolutely no power," he complained as we drove off down the street and around the corner.

"Don't talk shit about my car." I usually enjoyed the calloused banter we shared, but at the moment, I was too keyed up to verbally spar with him. I needed him physically and the space separating us was beginning to suffocate me.

I leaned over to him and placed my face in his lap. He hadn't bothered to re-button his jeans and I accessed him easily. He immediately knew what I was going for and he moved his arm out of my way.

"Uughh," he moaned when I started licking his tip. He reached down and squeezed my ass through my jeans before moving his hand to the back of my head and playing with my hair.

I don't care what anybody else says. I fuckin' love when a guy puts his hands in my hair when I'm giving him head. It's tender and possessive at the same time.

Edward haphazardly pulled onto a street and parked the car across from a barren field. From his hurried movements I could tell he was close. Quickly I pulled off my pants and underwear, and straddled him in the driver's seat. The horn blared as I accidently pressed my back against it. We both laughed and Edward fumbled with the seat mechanism until he was able to slide the seat back and place a fair amount of distance between me and the steering wheel.

Edward's lips once again found mine, and we got caught up in long, open-mouthed kisses as he maneuvered me right where he wanted me. I could feel the heat radiating from his cock as he positioned himself to enter me. I lifted up a bit, and just as I was about to slide down on him, reveling in the anticipation of having him inside me, colossal and stiff, providing that best kind of ache – he stopped me.

"Want me to wear a condom?" he asked with a smirk.

"Oh now you're just being cute."

And I punished him for that remark by descending down on his cock at an aggravatingly slow pace, only to quickly dismount him and start all over again once he was all the way inside me.

"You're only hurting yourself," he cautioned. "You're gonna make me cum before you're even close to ready."

He had no idea how close I was, but instead of telling him that, I teased, "So you're a Minute-Man, Mr. Cullen?"

"A Minute-Man?" he growled, but the gruff of his voice held no aggression. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard you're gonna be begging me to stop after a minute."

He gripped my hips firmly and, bracing his feet against the floorboard of the car, he lifted his hips sharply, impaling me fiercely. Over and over again he thrust into my pussy so forcefully that I couldn't help but cry out at the impact.

The confining way he held me made it impossible for me to do much more than receive the delicious sensations he was delivering to my body. I pulled at his hair, and then my own as I struggled to hang on to the feeling of climbing, then soaring, then teetering ever so closely to the brink…

I felt bold and wild as I leaned back, not caring about the proximity of the steering wheel or the offending horn. I trusted him to hold me steady – not to let me fall, but to keep me flying.

He shortened his thrusts and began a rolling motion of his hips. The result was an excruciatingly wonderful sense of being filled and stretched and touched in all the right places.

"Mmm…..fuck…yeah…" I cried out.

"Damn…you're…so…"

But I couldn't hear what he was saying because his hands had abandoned my hips and his fingers were crawling between us; he was spreading me wide and just when I thought I had encountered the pinnacle of my nirvana, he took hold of my clit between his thumb and forefinger and the friction of the rubbing, sweeping motion catapulted me over the edge, and I was freefalling in the bliss of Edward's own making.

I collapsed against him and buried my face in his neck, reveling in the spicy scent of his skin as I struggled to catch my breath. But Edward wasn't done yet and he curled his pelvis against mine once more.

The aftershocks that ensued were like nothing I'd ever experienced. I was drowning in the effervescence of my lust; my breath extinguished under the weight of it.

He kissed me then, and I was only strong enough collect the touch of his lips, his tongue.

"I can't wait to do that again," I whispered between kisses.

"When's your birthday?" he murmured into my mouth.

"September," I sighed as I trailed my lips against his jaw and down to his neck.

"Damn. That's a lifetime away."

I chuckled into his collar and inhaled the smell of sex and sweat that lay there. "Why? You want to buy me a present or something?"

"No. I want to…I want…"

Edward trailed off, but I could hear the vulnerability in his voice and I lifted my head to look at him.

"You want what?"

"Nothing," he answered reluctantly.

"No, tell me," I sat up, fearing something displeasing by the way he was acting.

"Bella, I can't…I can't be with you like this…I want to, but-"

"What are you? Married?"

"No."

"Gay?"

"I thought we settled that."

"Religious?"

"You're the one who calls me Son of Satan."

I sat upright in his lap, only moderately aware that I was naked from the waist down. I forced him to look me in the eye and I gave him a casual smile.

"We're having fun, right?"

He shrugged and then nodded slowly.

"So let's just keep having fun. We don't have to complicate things with labels and shit."

"Yeah, but-"

"Edward? Just shut up and fuck me." I could feel his erection pressing against my thigh and he'd been right, I _was_ prepared to beg, but only for round two.

Not surprisingly, he obliged, and we crawled into the backseat where, this time, I gave and he received his fill.

When we were spent for the second time that night, we laid together in contented silence – not caring what the rest of the night held and none the wiser about the ongoing conversation between two figures sitting together atop a picnic table in the shadows watching the small sedan that had been rocking and swaying only moments before.

"Maybe they're just talking," Jasper whispered.

"They're not just talking," Alice returned.

"Damn, she's a good liar."

"That's the problem. They _both_ are."


	12. Chapter 12

"This is my favorite part of your body," I told Edward right before I softly nipped at the flesh just above his cock. "Well…next to this, that is." I dipped my head a little lower and took him in my mouth. He exhaled in pleasure as he watched me fellate him.

"You're really good at that," Edward complimented me when I was done.

"I know," I said as I made a show of licking my lips. "That's probably because it's my most favorite thing in the world."

"Giving head is your most favorite thing in the world?" Edward's voice dripped with disbelief.

I nodded. "I swear I crave it like a wino craves Boons."

Edward laughed at that.

There'd been a half-day at school and without really planning it, we'd ended up back at my house, in my room, in my bed.

"What's your favorite?" I asked.

"My favorite what?"

"Flavor of ice cream." I rolled my eyes. "If you're smart enough to nab an 'A' in Physics, surely you can track along with this conversation."

Edward seemed to ignore the sting my remark was supposed to evoke. Instead, he turned on his side and faced me.

"My favorite what?" he asked again.

Edward was skinny – no doubt about it. But as he laid there, next to me, in nothing but the sheet on my bed, I couldn't help notice the nice definition to his waist and abs.

"Uh…position," I answered, distracted.

As his eyes bore into mine, I also couldn't help noticing that he had way fewer zits than usual. In fact, he had less than a few zits and then, a sprinkle of red placeholders that hinted at the existence of blemishes that were fast fading. I was about to ask him if he was using some new acne treatment when I felt his hand snake down my waist and rest on my ass. He gave one cheek a little squeeze and then raised his eyebrows as he continued to gaze at me.

It took me a minute to realize that he was answering my question.

"Doggy-style?" I asked with an air of boredom. If a guy didn't know what he was doing in that position, he'd pull out too far and pump a bunch of air in me, and then it was queef-city. I hated that.

"That's good, too, but it's not my favorite." Edward said.

His response left only one explanation…

"Eww, you're gross!" I flung his hand off my ass and moved away from him.

"What's gross about it?" he shrugged as he questioned me.

"What's _not_ gross about it?" I countered. "Setting aside the asshole's primary purpose, it's not even an erogenous zone. It doesn't feel good."

"Well, well, well… something else you have no clue about."

If I'd rolled my eyes any harder, they'd have gotten stuck at the top of my eye sockets. I was so sick of Edward reminding me about the g-spot thing.

"Every time you bring up that incident, I'm going to make you remind me where my g-spot is." I was only pretending to be indignant; secretly, I was hoping he'd go for that idea.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He whispered as he rolled halfway on top of me and lowered his lips toward mine.

"Mmhmm," I mumbled in anticipation of kissing him. I _loved_ kissing him.

But only a shadow of Edward's lips ghosted over mine. I lifted my chin in an attempt to increase contact, but received only a sliver of his mouth. I opened my eyes to see that Edward was taunting; tantalizing me with his denial. At inconsistent intervals, his face neared mine, hinted at a caress, and then disappeared.

It incensed and ignited me.

"Knock it off," I complained, but my voice sounded oddly whiny and beseeching, as if I didn't really want him to stop. "Kiss me, you fucker," I added, just in case my voice was giving him mixed messages as well.

He laughed again and kissed me – but on the neck in place of my awaiting lips.

I quit protesting when he slid down to my chest and skimmed his tongue over my nipples. Instead of complaining, I murmured my appreciation as he alternated between biting and licking the pebbled flesh, reveling in the contrast between pleasure and pain.

And then he went lower.

And lower.

My teeth captured my bottom lip as I felt Edward spread me wide. I could feel the grip of his fingers against my thighs as he held me open and the heat of his breath as he hovered above my pussy.

I squeezed my eyes shut in anticipation of his next move, but Edward was stone still.

_What the hell?_

I opened my eyes and looked down into two verdant irises that were looking at me so intensely; it was as if they were staring beyond my soul. Suddenly I felt more naked than I already was. I wanted to push him off me and cover myself with the bed sheet. I wanted to scream at him for ruining my sex buzz with this silly shit. I wanted –

…so quickly that I didn't even see the movement, his tongue flashed against my clit, and then disappeared. I held my breath and waited for the next flicker of euphoria. I stared at my ceiling, my wall, the top of my closet door – anything but those eyes.

_Lick!_

I was so unprepared for the sensation that I nearly bucked right off the bed. I swallowed a deep moan and readied myself for the unbearable lull that was sure to follow.

But as usual, Edward didn't do as I expected. Instead of holding back, he went at me like he was enjoying his last meal.

Emboldened by the feelings he was igniting in me, I replaced his hands with my own and held myself broadly exposed, unprotected against his merciless tongue.

I looked down just as Edward looked up at me and our eyes locked just as his licks turned to suction. Even trapped in his gaze, I couldn't stop the moans and cries of ecstasy that escaped from my mouth. I felt so bare – so stripped.

I hated it.

I loved it.

"You sure _giving head_ is your most favorite thing in the world?" Edward asked a bit later when I was basking in the afterglow of my orgasm and he was basking in the afterglow of giving me one. "Because you don't act like _that_ when you're giving head."

"Shut up." I still wasn't quite comfortable with the inside-out way he'd made me feel just by looking at me.

"I'm just saying…" Edward trailed off as he rested his hands underneath the back of his head and stared up at the ceiling with an arrogant grin on his face.

I turned to look at him in irritation, fully prepared to knock his ego down a few notches when a flicker of dark rust-colored hair caught my attention. The sun filtering through my window was shining on him just right, and it illuminated the brightness that was trying to seep through the dull, dark hue of his hair.

"Are you growing your hair out?" I asked.

Edward shrugged. "I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it."

"Well, your roots are showing. You're starting to look like a striped pumpkin."

"I don't care."

He said that, but I'd never seen so much of his natural color peeking through, so in the past he'd most likely been diligent about keeping his hair dyed. I let it go, though, because in all honesty, I didn't like Edward's hair. It was too dark against his pale skin. Plus, I'd seen the real color of his hair, on his happy trail and down below, and it was an awesome color.

Suddenly my stomach growled and Edward nudged me on the arm.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"I guess," but I didn't really feel like moving. I was kind of enjoying lying next to Edward and smelling his…smell.

I know it sounds weird, but I feel oddly drawn to Edward's scent. It's kind of the way I feel about the aroma of gasoline and paint. I can never get enough of it, but its constant presence has consequences.

"Do you want to go out and get something or…" he trailed off.

And I know why, too. Edward and I didn't _go out._ We _went in._ Inside cars, bedrooms and darkened break rooms – but we never, never went _out._

"I think there's some leftover Italian sausage lasagna in the fridge. Want some?"

Edward looked interested. "Your mom won't care?"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't see how she could. I made it. That woman can't even pour milk. She's useless in the kitchen."  
>Edward tried not to laugh at my comment, but he let out a soft chuckle as he moved the blankets back in preparation of getting dressed before going into the kitchen.<p>

I watched him as his leg stretched over my body to land on the floor and I couldn't ignore the semi that hung over me. I reached up and stroked him and immediately he was rock hard in my hand. He paused to allow me to fondle him and I took full advantage of the opportunity, using both hands to tug and play with his cock.

He made an appreciative moaning sound before reaching between my legs and testing me with his finger and then, with no comment or warning, he shifted on top of me. Heat and shivers raced up my spine as he thrust inside of me, and I raised my hips to meet his rhythm.

"You sure are the real deal," he whispered as he covered my mouth with a kiss. I had no idea what he was talking about but the way he was kissing me took precedence over trying to figure it out.

Twenty minutes later my legs were still wobbly from the memory of my orgasm as we ambled into the kitchen in search of food. I had haphazardly tossed on a tank top and a pair of shorts, but Edward was fully dressed and aside from the satisfaction that colored his skin, it wasn't really apparent that we'd been going at it like jackrabbits only a little while ago.

"So, your mom doesn't care if you have people over when she's not home?" When I looked over at him from where I was warming the lasagna in the microwave, he added, "And by _people_, I mean guys."

"I'm sure she would care, but she won't be home until late, so it's cool."

"I figured. You seem pretty calm."

"I looked on her calendar. She has two back to back meetings an hour away from here that started about ten minutes ago."

"Does she think you're working or something?"

_Damn…how did he know?_ It's not like I go around telling everyone that my mom and I are buddy-buddy, but I don't exactly advertise the fact that she'd make me wear an official police-issued ankle bracelet if she could get her hands on one and figure out how to use it to track me.

"Or something," I answered.

I set the plate of pasta in front of Edward and all conversation ceased. He tore into it, and I realized that he was much hungrier than he'd let on. I watched him eat and bristled against the foreign rush of pride I felt at watching him devour the meal I'd made.

"I need to get my car," Edward announced as he pushed back from the table when he was done eating.

We'd hopped into my car afterschool, thinking we were only going a short ways away, but there had been a police officer on the road behind us and Edward froze up and told me to keep driving. Well, he'd followed us all the way to the expressway, so it only made sense to go to my house instead of try to find some vacant alleyway we could park in.

A demand for gas money was right on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed without voicing it, because somehow, it just didn't seem appropriate. No, appropriate isn't the right word, because I don't really care about whether or not I'm appropriate. I just…well, it didn't feel right.

As we walked side by side to my car, I noticed that Edward kept stealing glances at my hand – like he wanted to hold hands or something. That would be weird. We don't hold hands. We're not…_together._ We're not a couple and holding hands is a couple –thing.

I sighed, audibly irritated that I had to think about things like handholding, gas sharing and piercing, intimate looks. We were just having fun together, enjoying one another's company – I mean bodies. Enjoying one another's bodies…although Edward _was_ fun in his own way. He had a wicked sense of humor on the rare occasions he displayed it, and-

Suddenly my keys were ripped from my grip and Edward was racing ahead of me toward my car.

"Hey! What are you doing?" I yelled.

"Driving. If you think I'm going to put up with your granny driving all the way back to the school, you are sadly mistaken," he replied.

"My granny driving? You ungrateful little shit. I didn't have to keep-"

Edward silenced me with a kiss and tried, not too subtly, to navigate me toward the passenger side of the car. I pinched him on the stomach – _hard_ – until he cut it out.

"OW!"

"Quit trying to pull those Rico Suave moves on me and give me back my damn keys."

"Bella, your driving makes me insane. Besides, I need to make it back to the school within this millennium."

"You're not driving like a bat out of hell in my car. The last thing I need is my mom all over my ass because you got a speeding ticket. Plus speeding wastes gas." _What? I had to work for that gas. It was a precious commodity. _

"You act like I'm not paying for the gas," Edward rolled his eyes and let himself into the driver's side of the car.

Oh. Well in that case.

We drove in relative silence for about five miles. I was thinking about the dreaded appointment I had coming up with Sheila, and trying to figure out a way to barter my way out of counseling entirely when Edward asked about the oddest thing.

"So you and your mom are close?"

"Why the hell would you think that?"

"The way you talk about her…she seems to mean a lot to you."

"I don't talk about her that much. And as far as her meaning something to me, she _is_ my mother. I _do _have a heart, Tin Man."

Edward grinned but didn't take his eyes off the road. "So defensive."

"I am _not_ defensive," I sat back and crossed my arms over my chest. "Shut up and drive."

And he did. Another ten minutes or so passed before I couldn't take the silence anymore.

"So you're not close to your parents or something?" I blurted out.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you don't talk about your parents at all. Since you assumed that I'm close to my mother because I admit I have one, I'm guessing that means you aren't close to yours." I surmised.

"I don't know," Edward shrugged. "I used to be, but we don't talk that much anymore."

"Workaholics?"

"Not really. More like I'm a blemish on their perfect, tidy little lives."

"They don't like your look?" My mom would probably freak out if I dyed my hair and wore black every damn day.

Edward snorted. "I think that's the least of their concerns."

I frowned. "Well what the heck else could they complain about? You're smart, you get good grades, and you have a job. And unless you're a total lame-ass and didn't invite me, you don't throw ragers on the weekends either."

Edward just shrugged off my comments, but I could see the gleam of pride in his eyes.

I was still thinking about what Edward had said about his parents when we rolled up to a red light right before the on-ramp to the expressway. I turned to him to ask him a question at the same time that he looked over at me. Only, he wasn't looking at _me_, but over my shoulder, through the passenger-side window.

"Oh, shit," he mumbled.

"What?" I turned to see what he was looking at and he grabbed my arm.

"Don't look!" he commanded.

I turned away quickly, but not before I spied a red convertible to my right.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Nothing."

And then Edward put the pedal to the metal and ran the red light we'd been sitting at.

"Edward!" I screamed. "That was a red light!"

"Oh pipe down. There wasn't even a car coming."

"You mind telling me what was so important that I almost lost my life?"

"You're exaggerating."

"And you're stalling."

"It was just someone I didn't want to see."

"Who?"

"Nobody."

"Edward…"

"Just drop it, alright?"

He sounded aggravated enough that I let it go. I figured it was either an ex-girlfriend, a parent or…a _current_ girlfriend.

My stomach dropped at the notion of Edward being with someone else. After the night we'd spent together after the party, I thought it was kind of implied that I was the only person he was with, but only because he'd made it clear how hard it was for him to stay away from me.

I looked through the side mirror just outside my window, watching for the police officer that was sure to come looking for us for running a red light, and trying to tap into the self-control that would keep me from fixating on who was in that red car.

The battle with my willpower was a short and disastrous one. I couldn't stop myself from asking. I turned toward Edward, my eyes shut tight against the shame of what I was about to do – how much I was revealing by asking…

I opened my mouth to speak, but the voice that drifted to my ears was not my own.

"It was my sister, alright? And I'm really not up to explaining what I was doing with you, in your car, in the middle of the day," Edward expressed.

His _sister?_

I vaguely remembered the time I saw Edward at the gas station in the back of a red, sleek sports car.

"Oh." Suddenly I felt very relaxed. "She could call the school herself and verify that we had a half-day."

But Edward's body language revealed that a reason for why he wasn't in class was the least of his concerns.

"So you're not allowed to date," I nodded, remembering our earlier conversation. "Surely your sister can be flexible on that rule. I mean, she has a boyfriend, right?" The memory of Edward telling Jasper that Craig, the guy they knew in common, was his sister's boyfriend's best friend flashed in my mind.

"It's not like that," Edward sighed.

"Then what's it like?"

Edward glanced over at me, and for a second I thought he was going to tell me. But he just shook his head and turned his attention back to the road.

"Edward…" I touched his arm to coax him into opening up, but he shook me off and I could tell that any attempt at further conversation would be useless.

Once we got to the school, Edward didn't even bother to turn off my car. He simply placed it in park in the bus pick-up lane and hopped out to cross the parking lot to his car.

"Edward!" I struggled to get out of the car before he was out of hearing distance.

"I'll call you later!" he yelled over his shoulder.

And then he was gone.

He didn't call that night, and the next morning I showed up to school determined to get to the bottom of this little mystery with Edward. Unfortunately, I didn't see him in Physics and before I could go search for him after class, Alice cut me off at the pass.

"You lied to me," she announced.

"Fine. That red shirt you wore last week really did make you look flat, but look on the bright side – that'll totally put an end to those 'she-stuffs-her-bra- rumors," I remarked.

Alice rolled her eyes. "I saw you and Edward at that party."

"And?"

"And you told me that there wasn't anything going on between the two of you."

"Uh-huh."

"Well, there is."

"There is?"

"Oh cut the crap, Bella. I'm being serious here. I've warned you time and time again to stay away from Edward and you're not listening to me at all."

"And why should I?" I snapped, bored with the charade of Alice's caring. "You barely have two words to say to me and you act like it's a great sacrifice to acknowledge my presence half of the time. Yet, you want me to just trust you, without so much of an explanation, about what you have to say about Edward."

Alice looked around swiftly at the mention of Edward's name and lowered her voice. "I told you I can't tell you any more than that."

"And I told you that this is none of your business."

I flounced away from Alice, and I have to say, the flounce felt good. I felt justified in telling her to butt out, but I also felt satisfied in having the last word.

At least I thought I'd had the last word.

That night I found myself working alone – no Edward and no Jasper. Fortunately, the skeleton crew meant that Ronnie had to stay on his side in the arcade and couldn't bother me. Unfortunately, I had no one and nothing to distract me from the fact that Edward still hadn't called me and I hadn't seen him one time at school earlier, even though I had seen his car in the parking lot. There was no denying it – Edward was avoiding me.

Again.

"Will this ever end?" I muttered. Apparently I'd muttered it loud enough to warrant an answer.

"I don't know, will it?"

I looked up quickly into the calculating gaze of possibly the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Her blonde hair was so shiny that it looked un-natural and her crystal blue eyes looked like the purest gemstones.

"Uh…sorry. I didn't hear anyone come in." I tossed the rag I'd been using to wipe down the counter behind me and straightened up to my full five feet, four inches.

"Tsk, tsk," the bombshell shook her head. "Do I need to call my aunt and tell her that her new hire's customer service skills are a bit lacking?"

Aunt? Bonnie? Edward's Aunt Bonnie? So that must mean…

"You're Edward's sister?"

"So you _have_ heard of me. Funny how I didn't know a thing about you until Alice called me and told me all about the new girl in my brother's life."

I squinted because someone had once told me I looked intimidating when I did so. "Alice called you?"

"Yes, and Alice and I aren't exactly on speaking terms so she probably had a pretty good reason for calling and telling me about you, don't you think?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Well I would."

Suddenly Blondie looked more menacing than the Terminator as she took a step closer to the counter. Instinctively, I took a step back.

"I know who you are," she told me.

Oh here we go. I leaned against the rail behind me and readied myself to hear any one of a thousand possible accusations. _I'd slept with her best friend's boyfriend or broke her best guy friend's heart when I wouldn't return his calls or that was her ex-boyfriend that I'd given a blow-job on the fifty-yard line after the homecoming dance._

"Well lucky you," I quipped.

"I heard you were a smart ass."

"I'm sure I can thank Alice for that, too."

"Actually, you can thank Edward." Blondie arched her eyebrow and smirked when she saw my surprise. "Yeah, he knows I'm here. He told me not to come, but that boy wouldn't know help if it came gift-wrapped from God Almighty, himself.

"Edward sent you?"

"I didn't say he sent me, I said he knows I'm here. Pay attention."

I disliked Edward's sister immediately.

"If Edward has something to tell me, he can say it himself."

"No, he can't. I already told you, Edward doesn't know what's good for him. Fortunately, as his big sister, I _do_ know what's good for him, and I know what's good for my family. Alice already told me that she told you to stay away from Edward. Since you seem to think she doesn't know what she's talking about, I'm here to tell you that she does. Stay away from my brother."

"Why?" Could somebody, _anybody_ answer this question for me?

"Because, like I said, I know who you are," she looked me up and down as she spat out the words. "And you're so not worth the trouble he could get into for being with you."

I was so dumbfounded at how thoroughly I was being insulted and I didn't even know my offender's name, let alone her cause for offending me.

And before I could get it out of her, she turned on her heels and walked out as stealthily as she'd walked in.

And yeah, she totally flounced.

Thankfully, it was a slow night at the theater, and I utilized the rest of the time on my shift to plot and plan. It wasn't so much that there seemed to be this campaign to keep me away from Edward - I was used to that sort of thing- it was that nobody would tell me what was so taboo about Edward.

And honestly, I'd been hiding how much I knew about Edward for so long that I'd almost forgotten some of the things I read when I'd taken a gander at his file in my mother's office. Of course Alice didn't know what I knew, and neither did Edward's sister. Perhaps they were thinking they were saving me from getting in over my head with Edward…

It only took a few minutes for me to throw out that theory. While Alice might be concerned about me not knowing what I was getting into with Edward (though I doubt it), I couldn't see Edward's sister caring all that much about me. No, her concern, admittedly, was her brother, and something she'd heard about me made her want to keep me as far away from Edward as possible.

By the time I made it home that night, I was none the wiser on what Edward's sister's problem could be. All I could come up with was religious cults and possible baby-mama-drama.

I really need to stop watching Maury.

I was still fiddling with my keys on the porch when I heard a hushed voice call my name. I froze and every bad horror film that I've ever seen funneled through my mind.

"Who's there?" It didn't escape me that I'd criticized stupid characters for asking that very same question when they heard a "bump" in the night.

"It's me."

"Edward?"

He came into view from the side of the house, and the bicycle that was at his side explained why I hadn't seen his car when I drove up.

"Hey."

"Hey nothing. Why haven't you called me?"

"Bella, you have no idea what I've been through the past few days."

I looked at him then, really looked at him, and I noticed that he looked a little worse for wear.

"What happened?"

"My parents found out I quit taking my meds."

"How'd they figure that out?"

"The pharmacy called. I hadn't picked up my refills."

"Amateur," I rolled my eyes, but then I could see that Edward wasn't in the mood to be berated, so I changed the subject quickly. "How'd you get out? Did you sneak out?"

He shrugged. "I just left. I don't even think my parents were paying attention."

"Well if they come looking for you, this will be the first place they'll come. Your sister came to see me at work tonight, you know."

Edward nodded. "Can we get out of here?" he asked me.

In that question, we both knew what I was getting into if I agreed.

"If you expect me to stick my neck out for you, Edward, then you sure as shit better tell me what the hell is going on with you."

"I will."

"The truth."

"I know."

"And I already know enough to know if you're lying, so don't try anything with me."

"I won't," Edward said with aggravation. "I'm going to tell you…I _need_ to tell you."

And that both enthralled and horrified me.


	13. Chapter 13

I eyed Edward as I weighed the distance from him to my car. I could see the glow of the television sifting through the slats of the blinds on the living room window and I knew my mother was up, probably waiting for me. I knew then that she'd heard me drive up and I quickly contemplated whether I wanted to leave and make up an excuse later, or go inside and try to think of a convincing reason of why I had to duck out suddenly.

What to do, what to do…

"Bella?"

My mother had opened the door then and obliterated my strategizing. I shot a quick glance toward Edward and slightly gestured for him to back up.

"Hey, Mom."

"What are you doing out here?"

"Oh…just…trying to figure out what I'm going to do."

"What?" my mother half laughed, half frowned. "Get in the house, silly. It's cold out here."

"Mom, feel like taking a ride with me?" I asked.

"What? Where?"

"I have a history test tomorrow and I didn't remember that I'd forgotten my book until I was already at work, so I called Alice and she said I could stop by her house after work and use her book, since she'd be done studying by then. She left it on the porch for me, but I forgot to swing by her house and I drove all the way home. I need that book. Wanna ride back with me to get it?"

"How far away does she live?"

"About forty minutes from here."

"Bella," my mom looked frustrated. "I have to leave at six in the morning to make my ten o'clock flight. I told you I have to be in Seattle tomorrow."

"Oh, that's right." Actually, I'd forgotten all about that.

"I'm sure you'll be alright. You probably aren't going to have much time to study anyway."

My mom was about to make a decision. I had to think fast before any ideas solidified in her mind.

"Actually, that's not true. There are some things I need to verify in my notes and I need the book to do that. Plus, I'm right on the verge of an A in that class and this is my last big assignment before the quarter ends."

The mention of the 'A' did it. My mother waved me on. "Hurry back. You know I don't sleep well when you're out driving around at night."

"I'll go straight there and straight back." I didn't bother telling her not to wait up. She'd see right through that.

As soon as my mother was back in the house, I instructed Edward to hide his bike behind the neighbor's house and then meet me down by the corner, in case my mother was watching out of the window.

"Okay, I have to give it to you," Edward exhaled once I'd picked him up at the street's edge. "You are by far the best on-the-spot-liar I've ever seen."

"You bet your ass I am," I told him proudly.

"For a minute there, I thought your mom was going to take you up on your offer for her to come with. I didn't know what you were doing."

"She likes to be asked, but she rarely leaves the house after dark if she has to be at work the next day. I totally lucked out on the flight thing, though. I'd forgotten all about that."

I listened to the sound of the tires rotating against the washed out, paved road and gave Edward the opportunity to initiate his explanation. When he remained silent, I cleared my throat and reminded him of our deal.

"Okay, I got you out of there. Now spill it," and I held up my hand to express my first condition before he started speaking. "And this story better include how your sister knows Alice and why they're no longer friends."

Edward closed his eyes as he leaned his head against the headrest of the passenger seat. When he breathed out in anguish, I got my first clue at how hard it was to tell me whatever it was he had to say.

"I used to live a few streets away from Alice. For years she and my sister were pretty good friends. They used to have the same classes until Alice repeated the tenth grade."

"Alice repeated the tenth grade?" I asked incredulously. "But she's so smart."

"It wasn't an issue of difficulty. It was an issue of not coming to school for an entire year so she had to repeat."

"Why didn't she go to school? And does this have something to do with why she and your sister aren't friends?"

"Maybe I could tell you if you stopped interrupting me with questions."

I scowled at him but didn't say anything – only because the strained tone in his voice reminded me of how difficult it was for him to go into detail.

"My mother says that the reason my sister and Alice were such good friends was because they were two sides of the same coin. They both feel things really deeply but in different ways. Like, if you piss my sister off, there's no coming off her shit list – ever. She'll write a person off and never think twice about it. Alice, on the other hand…it's impossible to _get_ on her shit list. She's also loyal to a fault."

"Are we talking about the same Alice?"

"She's sarcastic as hell and she'll act like she doesn't like you, but she'll always talk to you, she'll always look out for you, even if you don't want her to."

I was about to ask if that was what she was doing for him, but I remembered to keep my mouth shut and let him tell the story at his own pace.

"Two years ago," Edward went on, "things got a little complicated when this other girl started hanging out with Alice and my sister. Her name was Kate and at first she was pretty shy, or at least I thought she was. I guess she had this crush on me, or whatever, but she didn't think I'd like her so she didn't say anything about it. She just hung out with Alice and Rosalie and tried to act like them. Then, one night she decided to get drunk and go to this party. My sister didn't go because she went out with her boyfriend and Alice was sick."

"Okay," I said, doing the active listening thing. My mind was spinning as I tried to piece together all of this seemingly unrelated information.

"So anyway, when I saw Kate at the party, she was by herself. She kept trying to hang out with me and stuff, but I was already with this other girl." Edward looked at me nervously and then kept going with his story. "I thought she'd gotten the hint that it wasn't going to happen, but when I was upstairs with these girls, Kate came in-"

"_Girls_?" I raised my eyebrow.

"Hey, don't judge me. I was totally loaded and these two girls asked me if they could make out with me at the same time. Who was I to say no?"

I smiled as I shook my head. Though I didn't really want to think about Edward with two chicks, I could appreciate the act. Plus, even though Edward was telling me about _him_, it still seemed like he was talking about somebody else.

And though I would never tell him to his face…but…well, the more I got to know Edward, the more attractive he was to me, but he wasn't attractive. I mean, he had the nicest eyes and his lips – his mouth – was amazing.

Still, unless he had quite a reputation for his bedroom skills, I was puzzled as to what the draw was. Because while one girl might seek out the opportunity to see underneath Edward's rough exterior, the likelihood that two (and certainly three) girls would be vying for his attention was kind of hard to picture.

But of course I couldn't say that. So, instead I offered a simple, "I guess they wanted to see if it was true – what was written about you on the washroom walls, eh?"

And of course, Edward, being Edward, saw right through me.

"Contrary to your opinion of me, I've never had a problem getting girls."

"I don't have a low opinion of you, Edward." I was irritated at having to admit as much and I wanted to get the focus off me and my feelings as soon as possible. "Finish your story."

"So anyway," he said after a pause long enough to communicate that he was continuing because _he_ wanted to and not because I'd told him to. "Kate was like this whole other person when she came in that room. The other girls yelled at her to get out, but she totally ignored them. She just locked the door, walked right over to me and asked if she could join in. Then she kissed one of the girls."

"Did the girl deck her?" I asked.

"No, but it was enough to catch her off guard and let Kate get between them and into my lap."

"So you did her? Right then and there?"

"Well…yeah." Edward said it like I was in danger of flunking out of a remedial special day class.

"What were the other girls doing?"

Edward shrugged. "I dunno. Waiting their turn?"

"Oh that is so…" I wanted to say disgusting, but then a flash of the "study date" I'd had with a few members of the Forks baseball team flashed before my eyes.

Well, but that was different. I was meeting a need, not trying to get those guys to like me.

"So they did get a turn." Even though it was a question in my mind, it came out more like a statement.

Edward hesitated a moment before he answered, but the earnestness in his voice made me believe him immediately.

"No," he sighed. "I think the whole thing with Kate turned them off."

"Oops."

"You don't know the half of it." Edward fiddled with the latch for the door locks as he continued. "After that night, Kate thought that she meant something to me, or whatever, but it wasn't like that for me and I told her that it wasn't gonna happen."

"And what'd she say?"

"Well, at first I thought she was cool with it. I mean, I knew she was pissed at me, but I thought she'd get over it. But then she started turning up at all the places I was hanging out in-"

"Oooh, a real live fatal attraction."

"You're being funny, but seriously she flipped out on me. She even tried to kill my dog."

"What?" I hit the brakes of the car a little hard at that revelation. Even though I didn't have any pets of my own, I totally wasn't into hurting animals.

"Yeah, she tried putting antifreeze in his water. When he was too smart to drink it, she started dribbling it in his food. He got really sick, but he didn't die."

"That crazy bitch!" I huffed. "How'd you know it was her?"

"Actually, her trying to kill my dog basically saved my ass." Edward turned away from me and looked out the window. I stole several glances at him as I passed a sign alerting me to the fact that I was headed toward Sequim. I was about to tell him to get on with it because we were running out of road, but, once again, he seemed to be in tune with my thoughts and he continued his story.

"I went over to a friend's house one day after school and a bunch of people were doing 'shrooms. I didn't have any; I was just hanging out listening to people make fools of themselves and watching the girls fake being high so they could do stupid stuff."

"You _can_ always tell when they're faking, can't you?" I cut in. "It pisses me off when the cheerleaders start squealing and acting stupid around the guys when you know they haven't even had anything."

"Yep, and I could tell that Kate wasn't high either. Only she didn't try to come onto me or anybody else. She started punching herself in the face."

"What the-"

"Yeah, imagine seeing that shit. I just kept watching her, wondering what she was up to…two days later, when the bruises were at their worst, I found out."

"She said you beat her up?"

"Worse."

My mind wasn't working as fast as it should have been and I waited for Edward to fill in the blank because I didn't get it.

"What's worse than…"

And then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

"She said you raped her." I didn't even need Edward's confirmation to know I'd hit the nail on the head.

"At first, I laughed it off, thinking everyone would know she was bat-shit crazy. But then the cops showed up at my house a day later and questioned me. After that, some social worker came and took me to juvenile hall."

"Just like that? What about all your friends who saw her hitting herself in the face?" I asked frantically, feeling suddenly trapped inside Edward's own personal hell.

"Funny how unwilling your friends are to implicate themselves in unyielding drug use."

"They didn't vouch for you?"

"Well, I didn't know the names of everyone there, and my friends, who were high, held no credibility so I was basically on my own."

"Okay, wait a minute," I tightened my grasp on the steering wheel as I tried to come to grip with the notion that someone could send someone up the river on a faulty rape charge so easily. "So, all she had to do was say you raped her, and that's it? No medical examinations, no psychological evaluations? Nothing?"

"Have you ever had Sex Ed. at school?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

"And have you seen that video about rape and what it means to be consenting?"

Again I nodded.

"Well at the very end, they tell rape victims what _not_ to do in order to help the police catch their attacker. The first thing on that list is not to clean your body because it clears away the traces of rape."

"But the first thing you'd want to do if you were raped is get that feeling of somebody else's filth off of you…at least I would."

"Yeah, well that's the stance Kate took, too. She said she just 'felt so dirty that she showered all night'." Edward mimicked a high-pitched voice.

"So, she took a shower. That doesn't prove anything."

"Bella, you're forgetting that I _did_ have sex with this girl. She knew things…could describe what I looked like naked."

"But that helped you, right? Because all you had to say is that it was a consenting relationship. I wouldn't think that a girl who's being raped would take the time to scope out her attacker's body."

Edward shook his head. "Kate admitted that she'd been with me before. She said I manipulated her into being a part of a threesome but then she decided that she didn't want anything to do with me. Her story was that I got pissed because she wouldn't sleep with me anymore so I started stalking _her_ and then I raped her."

"Shit," I whispered, realizing that Kate had done a pretty thorough job of making sure her accusation was air tight.

"But what about the other girls in the room with you two that night; surely they knew you hadn't manipulated her into anything."

"We were all so drunk that night, Bella. Everyone accept for Kate. Nobody was going to take our word over hers – not that the other girls were offering up much of an alibi anyway. They both had a sudden case of amnesia."

"Damn, Edward…" I didn't know what else to say. "So you had to go to court and everything?"

I saw Edward nod out of the corner of my eye as I changed course on the highway and circled back toward home.

"Man…I feel like I have to apologize for every fucked up skeezy bitch in my gender pool," I told him. It was hard to even attempt to relate to the story he was telling me so I didn't even try. I just kept asking the questions that peeled away the layers of who Edward was.

"But what does all of this have to do with Alice?" I asked curiously. "Did she testify against you or something?"

"That's where Kate's tactical error that changed everything comes in." Edward grinned.

"What? Little Miss Psychopath made a mistake?"

"Remember I said that Kate used to hang around with my sister and Alice? Well, my sister figured out that she was crazy and wanted nothing to do with her, but Alice…well, Alice has issues of her own, so she wasn't about to write anyone off for a bit of mental instability. Plus, Alice, being Alice, she couldn't.

"Anyway, Kate felt really comfortable with Alice, I guess, and she told Alice all this stuff about how much she loved me and how we were meant to be and how I just didn't see it yet because all those other girls were getting in the way. Alice said that she didn't want to be involved, but she still listened to Kate and hung around with Kate. She just buried her head in the sand and pretended that Kate was just kidding around. Even when Kate said she was going to ruin my life if I didn't start paying attention to her, Alice didn't take her seriously."

"So what changed?"

"Well, I told you how Kate put anti-freeze in my dog's food, right? Well, like I guess Kate thought she had the whole trial thing in the bag and right before the end, she spent the night at Alice's house. Anyway, Alice's grandmother's cat was really sick and they were like, waiting for it to die because Alice's grandmother refused to put it to sleep. So, out of the blue, Kate suggests putting anti-freeze in the cat's water.

"Then she told Alice that it usually works, but if it doesn't, just to dribble a little bit on the food, because that's what she did with my dog."

"Just like that, she admitted to trying to kill your dog?"

"Do the words mentally unstable mean anything to you?" Edward asked acidly. "She wasn't exactly playing with a full deck."

"So what happened?" I asked, ignoring his sharp tongue. "Alice came and told you what Kate did?"

"Actually, she told my parents. I guess when Kate tried to kill a living being, it freaked Alice out enough to get her to talk. And then my parents convinced her to talk to the attorneys. Turns out, she had a ton of evidence that proved Kate was full of shit, include a video of Kate getting ready for a party talking about how she's going to fuck my brains out."

I laughed gleefully at Edward's good fortune. "That showed her! I hope they threw the book at her ass for lying in court."

"She got six months in the psych ward. If you ask me, it wasn't long enough."

"Not hardly. I would have sued her ass for all the shit she put you through."

"My parents countersued for damages and emotional distress, but her parents didn't have anything so they'll probably never see most of that money."

"Still, you were exonerated, so that's all that matters."

"But I wasn't." Edward looked over at me stonily. "I had to sit in that courtroom and listen as all the shit I've ever done with girls and at parties was broadcast to my parents, their friends and the people they worked with. A panel of psychologists and social workers testified that my behavior was a danger to myself and other minors. None of that changed simply because Kate proved she was just as crazy as everyone thought I was. There were no winners, Bella."

"But still, you didn't get locked up."

"I might as well have. My dad lost his promotion at work so we had to leave Seattle and move to bum-fuckin'-Egypt…something my parents will never let me forget. They didn't talk to me for months and I was basically on house arrest for my entire junior year. And let's not forget the lovely magic erectile dysfunction pills I'm court ordered to take until I turn eighteen."

Edward's mention of Seattle confused me only because he'd mentioned that he'd lived down the street from Alice for years.

"So all of this happened in Seattle?" When Edward affirmed that it had, I revealed the real source of my inquiry. "So how is it that Alice is here now, and you guys are at the same high school?"

"Her grandma met some guy on the Internet last year and they moved here so she could be with him. It didn't work out, though, and the guy took off with all their money so they're stuck here," Edward explained. "If she hadn't changed her name, I would have transferred to someplace else."

"What did her name used to be?" I asked with an interest that was uncharacteristic for me. Usually, other's people's business wasn't worthy of my brain space, but Alice was such an enigma that I wanted to know more and more.

"She used to have a different last name. She wasn't like you and your mom.. Her mother didn't keep her married name, so they had different last names, but Alice changed it to her mother's and grandmother's last name right before her mother took off with her latest pimp."

I gasped. _Alice's mother was a prostitute?_ Something else Edward had said hadn't quite sat right with me, but the revelation that Alice's mother was a woman of the night totally forced all other thoughts out of my mind.

"Wow." Alice's life sounded like one big shitfest. "Girl can't catch a break."

"Alice makes her own choices," Edward snapped.

I decided not to add any commentary to his outburst. I guess I could kind of see where he was coming from. Alice had the ability to save him and his entire family from a horrible ordeal and she chose to cover the ass of someone she hardly knew until the final hour. On the one hand, I'd be pissed as hell, too. But on the other hand, there were always two sides to every story.

Still, Alice was a riddle to be solved at a later date. I could practically see how raw Edward's outpouring had left him, and I wasn't particularly in the mood to find out the consequences of pushing him when he was so vulnerable and volatile.

I glanced at the clock and saw that I still had a pretty manageable alibi if I told my mother I'd stopped at the Dairy Freeze for a peanut butter milkshake.

"So, what are you going to do for the night?" I asked warily as I drew close to my house. I half expected to see cop cars parked in my driveway, sure that Edward's sister would have sent his parents to my house at their first inquiry of their son's whereabouts.

Edward shrugged, and the way his eyes darted around at the darkness surrounding us revealed that he'd been worrying about that very same thing.

I contemplated the situation. I'd basically be committing social suicide if my mother ever found out I was hiding Edward, and not for the obvious reasons. She would care less about the fact that his parents were probably frantic with worry and instead decide to focus on the point that Edward was male and therefore had a penis.

Nevermind the fact that Edward was being unjustly punished and this was his way of saying he wasn't going to take it anymore. Nevermind that pharmaceutical-induced impotence is just too high a price to pay for enjoying sex.

_I shouldn't be doing this._

But hell, how could I not?

"Listen, my mom usually goes to bed a little later than usual when she has a flight the next day and she'll probably be all over my shit, making sure I have a ton of stuff to keep me busy while she's gone. And let's not forget that your sister could find out where I live and send your parents over here at any minute," I warned.

"She won't," Edward said of his sister. "She'd come herself, but she won't send my parents over here. Not at first, anyway."

I watched him as he spoke, not sure if it was any better that his sister might appear instead of his parents.

"Well, at any rate, we won't be in the clear until my mom leaves at six tomorrow morning. Can you give me until then?" I asked.

Edward shrugged. "I'll have to."

"Where will you go until then?" I asked, hoping he had an answer that was better than what I was expecting.

He didn't.

"I don't know. I guess I'll just go hang out at the park or something."

"But, Edward, it's freezing outside!"

"Well it's not like I have any other choice. I don't have my car. Where else am I supposed to go?"

The look on his face sucker-punched me in the heart and I knew that I couldn't live with myself if I left him to fend for himself just then. After all, he'd come to me, and even though he wasn't articulating it, he really wanted my help – and more than that, he needed it.

"Just…hang out in my car for a minute. Keep my phone and I'll call you when the coast is clear," I said. "I'll bring you a blanket in a sec."

Edward seemed to let out a breath of relief as he accepted my phone. "Don't worry about bringing anything out until your mom goes to bed. I'll be fine."

I rolled my eyes at his attempt to be noble. "You'll freeze your dick off out here – and I just happen to have plans for that part of your body in the near future."

Edward just smirked at me as I got out of the car and slammed the car door shut. The lackluster expression on his face was the last thing I saw before I went inside my house. The unsettled feeling that festered in the pit of my stomach left me aggravated and anxious, yet I couldn't determine the exact root of those feelings. Something was just beyond the grasp of my consciousness, and trying to figure out what it was was outside the constraints of my ability and time at the moment.

And so I went inside and braced myself for the worst: an inquisition about a missing _boy_ the police had taken the liberty to phone my mother about because she just happened to have a daughter that went to the same high school.

Or perhaps Sheila had gotten wind of Edward's antics and had called my mother to give her a heads up.

The more I thought of it, the sharper the pain in my stomach became. There were an infinite number of scenarios that flittered through my mind and I felt the stirrings of a migraine as I tried to quickly come up with a realistic solution to each of them.

Speaking of migraines, I've never actually had one. To me, it's just a generic way too many people describe a really bad headache.

"Bella? Is that you?"

I froze in the doorway.

"Y-Yeah." I frowned at my stammer. _What the hell was wrong with me?_ I'd committed way worse infractions than simply hiding a fugitive in my car, so why was I so edgy all of a sudden?

"Did you get what you needed?" My mother came into view then, and judging by the anti-wrinkle cream that was dabbed around her eyes, it was safe to say she was within minutes of going to bed.

"I did." I held up the textbook that had been in the backseat of my car the entire time. "I'm going to study."

I had almost made it down the hallway before my mother called me back.

_Oh great. Here it goes…_

"Yeah?" I slowly turned around and was faced by a woman who suddenly, in my eyes, looked like she'd aged about five years overnight. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and upon her lips lay the hint of a….smile?

"Mom?"

"Bella, I just want you to know," she paused to take a shallow breath, "I am _so_ proud of you. You've been working so hard, your grades are good and there hasn't even been a hint of trouble lately. I just want to say how important it is for me to be able to trust you and I am so thankful that you're putting forth such an effort."

The relief that flooded me was the only thing that kept me from rolling my eyes. I mean, really? She didn't think I could see through the shit she was shoveling? I wasn't supposed to figure out that she was nervous about leaving me alone and because she hadn't uncovered enough evidence to accuse me of anything, she was trying a reverse tactic: kindly guilting me into conforming.

Nice try, but…well…no. I mean, it's not like I'm planning to throw a huge party or participate in an orgy. I'm just having a friend over. A friend who may or may not stay the entire time my mother is out of the house and who most definitely will be sharing my bed.

What's the big deal?

"Mom, are you hormonal?" I asked, not exactly keen to letting her know I was on to her, but kind of liking that she was saying something positive for once.

"No. I just…feel like I don't tell you enough how much I love and appreciate you," she sighed. "It's nice to be able to go on these extended conferences and know that my adult daughter is doing her part to keep things running smoothly at home."

Okay, this time I couldn't help it. I rolled my eyes. It was her use of the word 'adult'. She might as well have come out and said that she'd press charges against me if anything were to go wrong. I mean, that was her intent-

Wait just a minute! Did she say _extended_ conferences?

"Are you not looking forward to this conference?" I asked with pretend interest.

My mother batted away my question with an air of superiority. "It's not that. It's just that it's full of people who just want to hear themselves talk when really all they need to do is shut up and listen. But I'm presenting on one of my boss's latest white papers, so I don't have the choice to cut out early. He wants feedback from every session."

"What's the conference about?" I wasn't stupid enough to ask how long it was. It would have been more discreet to rent a billboard in town and advertise my intentions than ask that direct question.

"Cognitive and behavioral psychology. It's the same conference I go to every year, but I usually only go to about a day and a half. Now I'm stuck there for four days attending all the research and development crap my boss doesn't want to deal with."

"What's your boss's title?"

"Which one? He's the Executive Director of Social Services, the Program Director of Psychiatry and Behavioral Health, and I'm sure if I looked it up I'd find a list of other things he's in charge of. Why?"

"I was just thinking that that's probably the next position you should pursue so you don't get stuck doing all this sh-crap you don't want to do."

That little suspicious wrinkle my mother gets between her eyes disappeared as she laughed at what I'd suggested.

"I'd have to spend about the rest of my life in school if I went for any of those jobs."

She didn't say it, but I knew what she was thinking: if I hadn't gotten into so much trouble and sullied her reputation, she'd probably be on her way to one of those hoity-toity jobs.

"Don't wake me up early," I warned her, effectively ending the mother-daughter bonding session. "Say goodbye to me now."

"Bella, you have to get up for school anyway."

"Yeah, but not before six-fifteen, and since you said you have to leave the house before then, I'm telling you not to wake me up. There's nothing worse than being woken up ten minutes before your alarm goes off."

"I'll just kiss you on the forehead really lightly," My mother said, making no promises that she wouldn't rouse me before I was ready.

Which was exactly the reason I'd be making Edward a nice cozy bed in the confines of my closet.

Fortunately for me, my mother was too preoccupied to pay much attention to the fact that I wasn't studying like I'd said I needed to and instead was uncharacteristically doing chores like straightening up the linen closet – _oh, hello blanket that I once took to summer camp_ – and carting the kitchen trash out to the curb, stopping, of course, at my car to pass over a blanket to a very chilled-looking Edward.

I still felt unsettled and jittery as I went to my room and cleaned out my closet in preparation of Edward's overnight stay. I kept expecting the phone or doorbell to ring and reveal someone in search of Edward.

I also couldn't stop thinking about Edward sitting out there in the frigid night air, alone and hungry…

That thought led me to the kitchen where I made a double-decker ham and turkey sandwich before again, sneaking out to Edward. He rolled his eyes at me when he saw what I had, but he also smiled gratefully as he accepted the food.

"Is the coast clear yet?" he asked.

"Not yet. Hang in there just a little bit longer. She's going to bed at any second."

"You'd better get inside then. It's not worth the risk, you coming out here like this."

"Please. It's not like you're a passenger on the Underground Railroad." But he was right and I went inside to bide my time until my mother finally, _finally_ went to bed.

As quietly as possible I called the cell phone I'd given Edward and he answered on the first ring. I directed him to come inside and when he did so, we quickly and soundlessly disappeared into my room.

I exhaled in relief at finally getting Edward inside out of the cold and into my bedroom without getting caught. There was a tiny knot in my belly that prohibited me from being 100 percent euphoric, but I chalked that up to knowing I wouldn't truly be in the clear until my mother was on that flight to Seattle.

"In there?" Edward whispered when I pointed to my closet. He bristled when I nodded but opened the door nonetheless. He seemed pleasantly surprised at the mounds of blankets and pillows he found in there.

"I'd better not hear any jokes about being in the closet after this," he warned me as he slipped off his shoes.

I noticed that his socks looked brand new and it was just another reminder that even though Edward wasn't showy (besides the car that he'd inherited), it was clear that he was well-off. In my experience, it was the little things, like pristine socks, stable brand names (not fly-by-night fads) and expensive accessories that gave away wealth. Although I had everything I needed, I still didn't consider myself wealthy. My mother had money, but in my mind, it was her money and not mine.

As I had that thought, I looked down at my socks.

They were pearly white.

"Is your mother asleep?"

I looked up from my reverie to see Edward watching me from where he sat in my closet.

"Yeah, but I didn't want to risk you sleeping in my bed, in case she comes in to check on me during the night," I explained as I moved to occupy the closet with Edward.

"You think she will?" He moved over and made room for me on the makeshift cot.

I shrugged. "I've never known her to before, but I'm probably asleep when she does it, so I have no idea."

We lay next to each other in companionable silence for a few minutes. Something was still niggling at me, taunting me to address it, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what it was. I tried to ignore it, but the more I tried, the more aware I was that something blatant was staring me in the face.

"You don't have any dresses," Edward announced as he stared up at the garments that hung overhead.

"How do you know? How do you know I didn't just take them out of my closet so you wouldn't get tangled up in them?" I answered indignantly.

Edward cracked a smile, still staring up at my clothes. "You don't have any dresses," he stated affirmatively.

"Skirts, but no dresses," I admitted.

"You don't look like the dress type anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I leaned up on one elbow and peered down at Edward.

He reached over and wrapped his arms around my waist and drew me closer until I was lying across his chest.

"Do you like dresses?"

"No."

"Exactly."

And then he kissed me in that way that takes my breath away. His kisses communicated that that was all he wanted from me: just to give; to be close.

It was the first time I had ever experienced that: unconditional kissing – and I'd be lying if I said I didn't love it.

"Thank you…for tonight," Edward whispered as he smoothed my hair away from my face. I looked away from his intense gaze, not sure of what to do with his kindness.

"Yeah, well, just don't do something shitty and make me regret it," I chided him.

"No, I'm serious," he said firmly, seeing through my sarcasm. "I don't have a lot of people in my life that I can trust. It means a lot to me that you're going out on a limb for me. A lot of people wouldn't."

I averted my eyes from his and nodded. I didn't know what to do with his sincerity and gratitude, so I simply nodded and then I went back to kissing him. He seemed to understand what I was doing, because he didn't try to talk anymore. He just let me bask in the splendor that was his mouth on mine; breath, tongues, lips intermingled.

My mind struggled to relax and succumb to the moment as I focused on Edward while half listening for my mother to make a sound or call my name…

_Mother…_

_ Name…_

And just like that, it hit me with such a powerful clarity and I sat up so suddenly that I startled Edward.

"What? What is it?" he asked without bothering to whisper.

"Edward," I started slowly, doing my best to appear calm while sorting out the jumble of thoughts and words floating around in my mind. "Earlier, in the car, you said that Alice wasn't like me and my mom, that she and her mother didn't have the same last name. How did you know that? How'd you know what my mother's name was?"

It was such a little, inconsequential thing: the way Edward's eyes widened at the realization that he'd let such a small detail slip out. The way his brow furrowed, momentarily, and his gaze shot above my head to the closet door behind me – all of these small tells would have gone unnoticed by someone who wouldn't have done the very same things if they hadn't just gotten caught.

"You scared the shit out of me over nothing?" Edward rolled his eyes. "I thought something serious-"

"Edward," I put the kibosh on his stall tactic. "How did you know?"

He looked away for a second and when our eyes met again, I knew I was on to something.

"The whole truth," I reminded him.


	14. Chapter 14

As I watched Edward fidget and shift nervously in my closet, I grew increasingly more uncomfortable. The suspense was killing me but an even darker sense of dread coated my stomach.

_What was he going to tell me?_

Finally he went still and gave me that expression that I now recognize to be the one he uses when he's trying to put me off – the one he hides behind.

"I find it a little bit odd that you've never asked me why I don't go to Forks High."

I would have called him on his stall tactic, except for the fact that he had successfully captured my attention. _Hadn't I asked him that?_

"Fine. Why don't you go to Forks?" I rolled my eyes as I played along, trying fervently to distract him from my nervousness.

"Because my junior year, you were there," he deadpanned.

A cold chill ran down my spine as Edward's words settled over me. When I'd first encountered him at that lame group counseling session, I'd already been kicked out of Forks, which meant…

_How long had he known about me?_

"What do you mean?" I enunciated every syllable very carefully, revealing the question behind each word.

"I told you what happened to me. Do you really think my parents would send me to a school where a girl ran wild doing the football team and letting the baseball team gangbang her?"

Edward was gone and the Son of Satan himself sat before me, looking, for all intents and purposes, like I'd asked to hold a prayer meeting to pray for his soul.

"Gangbang?" I nearly screeched, remembering a little too late that my mother was sleeping just down the hall. "Where the fuck are you getting this shit? Because it certainly isn't true."

"Don't act like there isn't pictorial evidence."

"I wasn't gangbanged by anybody and I didn't do the football team." Not the _whole_ football team, anyway. "And how dare you judge me, motherfucker," I punctuated my anger with a kick to Edward's shin. "At least I don't have a rape charge on my record."

"Neither do I," Edward said indignantly.

I felt my blood start to boil and the hair on the back of my neck prickled with rage, and my chest constricted in…pain?

_What the fuck? My fucking feelings were hurt like some lovesick teenybopper? What the hell was this shit? _

"What, are you gonna cry now?" Edward goaded me.

I looked up at him sharply, so sharply that he must not have expected it, because for a fleeting second, I saw the unguarded expression on his face that revealed the effort he was putting forth to hurt me, and the lack of enthusiasm that he might be succeeding.

"Don't flatter yourself." I stood up and made a move to exit the closet, and then I looked over my shoulder at Edward and I remembered how he could get sometimes when he didn't want to answer a straight question… It was exactly how he was acting now. "How'd you know my mother?" I asked again.

"I don't _know_ your mother," he expressed as if I'd inquired about his last sexual encounter. "You make it sound like we call each other on the phone everyday and-"

"Edward, I'm putting my ass on the line for you at this very moment and you're honestly giving me shit right now?" I asked him incredulously.

He looked at the floor briefly before leaning back and resting his head against the wall. He looked down his lids at me and it was the most vulnerable I'd ever seen him.

"You have to promise me that you'll hear me out – that you won't get pissed off and kick me out."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Am I going to _want _to kick you out?"

Edward shrugged.

"Let's hear it." I was losing patience, but I didn't promise his ass anything even though I was having a hard time conjuring up a scenario that would make me want to kick him out.

"So, I told you about my trial and everything, right?" Edward sighed.

"Mmhm," I encouraged him to go on.

"Well, the prosecution brought in all these expert witnesses," he stated, complete with finger quotes, "to convince everyone that I was a hazard to society."

"And…?"

"Your mom was one."

It took my mind a minute to catch up.

"My mom was a witness for you?"

"Against me," he stressed. "And the whole time she was presenting, my attorney and my parents couldn't figure out why she seemed to hate me so much."

Edward let out an ironic chuckle before continuing. "Then my attorney did some digging and found out that the 'great psychiatrist' knew so much about hypersexuals because she had one living in her very own home…you."

Edward's eyes landed upon mine as he added, "I should thank you. I probably would have done time in a jail in Hong Kong or some shit if it hadn't been for you. My attorney was able to get her tossed off the case because of bias."

"You're the one!" I accused, my voice much louder than it should have been.

Almost three years ago, my mother had suffered; or rather _I_ had suffered because my mother had undergone what she considered the biggest devastation to her career. She'd been so excited to be declared an expert witness on a case, only to be dismissed right in the middle of the proceedings. Though she'd never told me the details of it, I'd always suspected it had something to do with me because for awhile afterward she seemed more pissed at me than usual.

I was about to go off on a tangent about the hell my life had been those months when I realized that I was missing the most important point.

"You knew about me." There was no use asking. Edward had basically spelled it out for me. "That day in the group session at Forks, when I showed up at Lincoln and the whole time we've been working together you've known…"

I turned my back to him in an attempt to get some semblance of privacy as I came to grips with what I was finding out. A nagging voice in the back of my head reminded me that I'd done the very same thing, but I squelched that voice into quiet submission. This was different.

"You used me," I whispered, "to get revenge against my mother."

"That is shit and you know it," Edward hissed.

"Do I?" I spun around to face him. "Why the secrecy, then? Why didn't you tell me that you knew who I was a long time ago?"

_He could ask you the very same thing…_ taunted the voice in my head. _Shut the hell up,_ I taunted back.

"I didn't expect to meet you, and once I did, I certainly didn't expect to like you. You're not…the kind of girl I usually go for."

"No. I guess not. After all, how many of the psychiatrists that you have a vendetta against have daughters you can use to screw them over?"

"Yeah, that's my plan," Edward said sarcastically, "which explains why I'm in your closet, totally at your mercy at this second."

"Yes, you are, aren't you?" I asked with a sinister intonation.

Edward looked resigned to my tone and he finally shrugged. "So, you want me to leave? Is that it?"

I could have said yes. I _should_ have said yes.

But I didn't. I was too confused about what I was feeling to adequately deal with the situation, so I did the only thing I could do: I put it off 'til morning.

"I'm going to bed. We'll…figure it out tomorrow."

I fully expected not to be able to sleep over the turmoil of realizing that the entire time I'd been keeping this big secret from Edward the joke had actually been on me. However, the next thing I knew, my mother was leaning over me, shaking me awake so that she could say goodbye.

"Wha- what time is it?" I sat up, startled, wondering if Edward was actually in my closet or if it had all been just a dream.

"It's early," my mother assured me as my eyes searched frantically for any signs of Edward. My closet doors were shut tight, but a heap of my clothes lay across my desk, reminding me of why they'd been evicted in the first place.

My mother's eyes followed my gaze and she wrinkled her nose as she looked around. "You really need to clean this room. It's a mess." Then, as if she had a grand idea, "that's what you can do while I'm gone."

"Mom, I have a science project and work. _That's_ what I'll be doing while you're gone." _And Edward._

But as that thought entered my mind, I wasn't so sure that it was actually true. I felt betrayed by Edward and suddenly I didn't have the same urge to jump his bones that I usually had.

"I'm so confused."

"About what, honey?"

It wasn't until my mother reached up to smooth down my hair that I realized I'd spoken aloud.

"Nothing." I pushed her hand away and burrowed underneath my blanket. "I don't think I'm even awake yet."

"Well…get some rest. I'll call and check on you when I get to the airport."

"You're leaving now?" I cast a glance at my clock and saw that I'd only been asleep for a few hours.

"In a little bit. I want to make sure to leave myself enough time for any issues at the airport."

Even though I was tired, it didn't escape me that my mother was still doing that thing where she never really, truly, gave me her itinerary. It's her way of denying me any opportunity to "plan" something she wouldn't want me to do. Because, really, three a.m. orgies were all the rage these days.

"I'll call you at lunch," I yawned as I submitted to a hug from my mother – a signal that I was done conversing and ready to go back to sleep.

However, as soon as my mother exited and closed my bedroom door, sleep was the last thing on my mind. I stared at my closet door and willed myself to remember if, indeed, Edward was on the other side of it or if I had simply hallucinated. If my imagination had concocted the fact that I was not a mystery to Edward in the same way that he was not a mystery to me.

The effort I was putting into remembering proved to be a moot point seconds later when my closet door creaked and Edward's long fingers appeared and pushed a one-inch gap between the door and the wall. One green eye focused on me and I stared back as the memory of all that had happened the night before came crashing back to me…

_Why do you think I don't go to Forks High?_

_ The prosecution brought in these expert witnesses … your mom was one._

_ She had one living in her very own home…you._

The anger I thought I'd conjured up became very real as I concentrated on using that emotion to cover up the hurt I didn't want to acknowledge. Without a word, I rolled over and turned my back to Edward.

I heard the closet door slide along its rail behind me, but I wasn't sure if it was opening or closing. I listened through the silence for sounds that Edward might be approaching, but I heard none. Instead, I heard my mother dashing around the house for what seemed like an eternity before the front door opened and shut, signaling her departure.

I was alone. With Edward.

That thought didn't provoke in me the feelings that I expected. Instead of getting excited at the prospect of a before-school quickie, I felt showered in the dread that had taken up residence in my chest as soon as Edward had told me he knew all about me from the start.

I tossed back my covers and headed for the bathroom, hoping a shower of a different kind would wash away the bad feelings.

When I'd finished in the bathroom, I fetched a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from my desk, grabbed underwear and a bra from my dresser, and dashed into the hall to dress. Though I was worried about what I would say to Edward if he confronted me about our previous discussion, I shouldn't have been. He completely left me alone as I got ready for school and it wasn't until I was about to leave that he finally appeared before me.

"I won't be here when you get back, if that's what you want." His tone was flat and unassuming.

"I take it you're not going to school then?" I wasn't quite sure what I wanted. I was mad at Edward, but I didn't want to abandon him in his time of need, either. And wanting to help him pissed me off because I didn't _want_ to want to help him.

"What do you think?" he asked as if I was the stupidest person on the planet. "That's the first place they'll look for me."

"And this is the second."

"Which is perfect since your mom is out of town and you'll be at school." He leveled his gaze to mine. "Unless you tell me to leave, in which case, I will."

"Do whatever you want, Edward," I huffed as I heaved one strap of my backpack over my right arm. "Leave, stay…I don't care."

I looked over my shoulder just as I was walking out of the door and saw the smile that had slid from Edward's mouth and now resided only in his eyes. I slammed the door as I walked away from him, furiously angry but not quite sure if it was because he'd seen through my poorly concealed desire to help him or because I actually housed the desire in the first place.

During the course of the school day, my mood didn't improve all that much. I was a nervous wreck. Every time a door opened, I kept expecting the principal or some social worker to beckon me to the office for an interrogation. I was so jumpy and edgy that by the time lunch rolled around I was exhausted from the effort of trying to look like I had nothing to be jumpy or edgy about.

The only sign of providence the entire day was the fact that Alice was absent. I was beyond thankful that I didn't have to endure her caustic looks or questions about Edward's whereabouts.

After failing an English test, because I simply couldn't concentrate, I made up my mind to skip the rest of the day. I was halfway to my car when I noticed two police cars parked at the front entrance of the school. In a failed attempt to appear inconspicuous, I hastily turned on my heels and retreated to class as fast as I possibly could.

For the rest of the afternoon I couldn't take my mind off Edward and what was going on with him while I was miles away at school. I wondered if he would report to work at the theater and considered driving by there on my way home – but then I thought better of it. The sooner I got home, the better. I needed to make sure that I was in the clear. The last thing I needed was to get in trouble with my mom and get my car taken away…again.

The marathon day was just about to come to an end when that vile excuse for a guidance counselor, Mr. Rinker, walked into my last class and summoned me to follow him, like I was some kind of wayward dog.

"What's this about?" I asked without moving an inch from my seat.

"Come with me, please." He used a patronizing tone to match his patronizing gaze and the only reason I left was because the entire class had tuned in to watch the exchange.

I'm guessing that a guidance counselor's day is only slightly less boring than that of a mortician, and for that reason Mr. Rinker was jumping at the chance to be a part of a real-life police investigation. Because when I walked through the door of his office and saw the two officers who most likely belonged to the police cars in the parking lot, it was only obvious that I was about to be interrogated in some kind of crackpot investigation.

Thank goodness for my years with Sheila and the practice she gave me at being evasive.

"Miss Swan, thank you for coming in. We just want to ask you a few questions about one of your classmates."

I sat stiffly and quietly while Officer #1 got to the point. As he was pontificating about this just being routine questioning, I spied my cumulative record on the corner of Mr. Rinker's desk. They'd read it. They knew I was eighteen, which was probably why I was sitting before them now. They'd probably tried to get a hold of my mother, and when they couldn't, realized I was eighteen and they could legally question me anyway.

"Okay." My response was laced with boredom.

"A few students mentioned seeing you around campus with Edward Cullen, and your Physics teacher said the two of you did a project together," Cop #2 offered up.

"Yeah," was all I said.

Cop #1 leaned forward in anticipation of more of an answer from me, and when he didn't get it, he raised his eyebrows.

"Isabella-"

"Bella," I interjected.

"Yes, well, Bella, we have reason to believe that Edward Cullen contacted you within the last twenty-four hours and that you have an idea of where he might be at the moment."

I shrugged. "Maybe he's at work. We work together, but I think he called out sick or something because we didn't work together yesterday and I'm off today."

"Where do you work?" Cop #2 asked.

I told him about the theater in Port Angeles, even though I'd bet my last dollar that he already knew where Edward and I worked.

"As I said before, a few students mentioned seeing the two of you together – and they didn't hesitate to state that you are the _only_ person they've ever seen him talk to."

I looked Cop #2 in the eye and lied so easily that it scared even me.

"Occasionally I'll go up to Edward and ask him about my shift or whether or not he's going to let me have that day off I asked for, since he's technically my boss, but other than that, we don't talk. Edward hates me and I'm not particularly fond of him."

"Oh?" Cop #1 didn't look like he believed me.

"I'm sure there's a record somewhere of the time he called me a cunt in front of the entire class and how we both got sent to the office-"

"Lover's quarrel?" Cop #2 grinned.

I guess they'd decided it was time to start the 'good cop, bad cop' routine.

I was tempted to tell the guy where he could stick his _lover's quarrel_, but then I remembered what I'd learned from all those telephone conversations and practice presentations my mom had had over the years.

If I acted like I hated Edward, they'd say I was covering for him or hiding something. Most people fabricated to make themselves appear stronger, but rarely weaker…

"Look, the truth is…Edward and I _aren't_ friends, but it isn't from any lack of trying on my part. I thought that since we work together that maybe we could be friends, help each other out with missed assignments…that sort of thing. But Edward made it pretty clear from the very beginning that he wants nothing to do with me. In fact, he was so mad that his aunt had hired me at the theater that he continually tried to get me fired. It wasn't until I agreed to do our entire Physics project by myself and put his name on it that he stopped giving me such a hard time." I glanced over at my counselor. "Sorry, Mr. Rinker," I apologized for the false collaboration on an assignment, "but it was just easier to let him take credit for something he didn't do than look for another job that worked so well with my school schedule."

Mr. Rinker nodded tersely before looking over at Cop #2. "Edward's a pretty good student, but he does have issues working with others. He's been known to be quite inventive to get out of doing group assignments with his classmates."

Cop #1 and Cop #2 looked at each other – clearly they had bought my story. Sadly, I wasn't as happy about this as I should have been and I knew precisely what the reason for that was.

Because I wasn't exactly lying.

All I had to do was imagine Edward's reaction when and if he found out that my sole purpose in enrolling at Lincoln High was because he was there. And if that wasn't enough, surely imagining his response if he ever found out that I'd read his psychiatric profile gave me the necessary motivation to successfully con a couple of cops.

But later that afternoon, as I traveled back towards my house, I allowed the scenario to play out unabashedly in my mind: Edward finding out the truth and then his anger and wrath exponentially trumping my own.

And while I was at it, I allowed my subconscious to speak the truth. The only reason I was so angry with Edward was because it was easier than being angry with myself. How could I have been so stupid? I mean, for crying out loud, this is Edward! _Edward._ It was never supposed to happen this way. I was never supposed to…care…

…so much.

And just as I came to accept the realization of how I felt about Edward, I also had to accept the fact that he probably didn't care for me at all , and certainly not enough to overlook the fact that I'd mislead him.

Damn Edward! Damn him for being so…for being someone I wasn't ready to let go of just yet.

I was still cursing Edward, myself and all living creatures on God's green earth when I walked through the front door of my house.

I was met with a quiet stillness that made me wonder if Edward had decided to take off, in search of a new hideout. The house smelled of a vacant loneliness and there was no hint of any presence.

_Okay, how melodramatic am I?_

My backpack made a soft thud on the floor as I let it slide down my arm while I looked around my immediate surroundings. The living room furniture looked undisturbed and a glance toward the kitchen showed no signs of use. I tilted my ear for any signs of life besides my own.

Nothing.

"Well fuck you too, Edward," I called to the emptiness.

As I leaned over to pick up my backpack, I noticed its checkerboard pattern began to swirl and shift.

Then I really got mad because that fucker was about to make me _cry._ No. It had to be something else. There had to be some other reason. I was tired. I was _maybe_ a little scared that the cops would show up at my house at any second. I was-

A shuffling sound from the hallway stopped my internal discourse immediately (and not a moment too soon because I was beginning to get on my own nerves).

I stared straight ahead until I spied the dark contours of Edward's jacket seconds before he came into view.

"Oh, you are still here," I casually mentioned. "I thought you'd left."

"Yeah, I heard." He looked beyond me, as if he expected to find someone else behind me. After a few moments his eyes settled on me. "So, you still pissed at me?"

I looked away from him in indignation, not really wanting to talk about how I felt about him at the moment.

"Are you _crying?_ He asked, stepping closer.

"No!" I yelled and moved away. "God, Edward just…fucking get the fuck away from me!"

I tore down the hall and went into my bedroom. Anguish exuded from me as I threw my backpack on my bed and slumped down beside it. I looked over at the calendar on my desk, as if a monthly cycle could be blamed for my attitude. Never mind that I didn't _have_ a monthly cycle.

That's when I noticed all of the yearbooks open atop my desk and the drawer that was slightly ajar. At that exact moment, Edward stalked into my bedroom.

"Look, if you want me to leave, then just fucking say the word but don't pull this wishy-washy, girly crap with me, Bella. You're acting like you're some kind of victim and you're not."

He leaned against my desk and leveled me with a stare. I turned away, knowing that I really had no defense for the attitude I was giving him. However, I wasn't ready to play nice, either. I narrowed my eyes at him and pointed at the evidence behind him.

"Were you going through my shit?"

"Oh, that reminds me," Edward said lightly. "You're a total hypocrite."

It might have been because I was expecting it. Maybe I was just so tired of carrying the weight of my deception around. Possibly I just wanted to allow Edward to verbally throttle me for my penance so I could stop mentally doing it myself.

And so for those reasons, and possibly others I'm too dim-witted to articulate, I erupted in a massive case of verbal diarrhea and spewed the truth out onto Edward.

"You're fucking wrong. I'm _not_ a hypocrite. And do you know why I'm not a hypocrite?" I paused only a second as I pointed toward Edward's face. "Because I only sought you out because I wanted to know you. You sought me out because you wanted to fuck over my mom. It's not the same thing." I let out a rueful laugh. "And you want to know the irony of it all, Edward? It wasn't even _you_ I was looking for. I mean, sure, it was your file I was looking at, but the picture – someone completely different. So color me shocked when I show up to Lincoln on my first day to find out that my blonde-haired, blue-eyed football hunk had turned into Severus Snape!"

Edward's brow puckered in confusion and the bemused expression he wore quickly darkened into one of defense.

"You read my file?"

"Not all of it," I let out. "Just the part about you being…you know…like me."

"How'd you get it?"

"I have my ways."

"Your mom! She let you read my fucking file?" Edward's hand swiped at his mouth in anguish. "That whole thing about wanting me to tell you what was going on with me…what the fuck was that for, when you already knew?"

"I didn't," I shook my head. "I just meant…wait, when you called me a hypocrite…what were you talking about?"

"I just meant about you giving me shit about the porn site when you have a ton on your computer. But don't change the subject. Tell me how much you knew about me."

"I knew how old you were, what school you went to and that you had some issues with the law. Of course all of this appealed to me when I thought you were the blonde, blue-eyes super hunk that was in that group session…"

"Fitch? You thought I was _Fitch_?" Edward asked incredulous.

The way he'd let the name fall off his lips, as if it wasn't even worthy of enunciation, had me wondering what the heck was wrong with this Fitch person. Other than his name, of course.

"What kind of a name is Fitch?"

"Carey Fitch. And I would have thought you'd have been smarter than that."

I could have been imagining it, but Edward almost seemed…hurt?

"Smarter than what?"

"I guess it's not just the airheads that fall for his bullshit."

When I didn't seem to understand what he was implying, Edward spelled it out for me. "The guy's a compulsive liar, and not on a small scale. He's been locked up twice for swindling companies out of their money. The last time he came so close to being tried as an adult that his parents tried to have him declared insane just to avoid it."

"So he lies to get money. That makes him...like just about every business owner on this planet?" I asked.

Edward rolled his eyes at my naiveté. "He doesn't just lie to get money. He lies about everything. He can't seem to help it. Like, he says he's going to get some football scholarship. He doesn't even play football. Or he'll talk about all these awards he's won and how he's the most popular kid at school; he's fuckin' homeschooled."

"That's not that…bad." But my voice defied my words.

"Not that bad? Maybe not, if he didn't actually believe the shit that he says, but he actually can't tell the difference between the truth and his fucked up fantasies. He actually got an entire first grade class lost on a field trip down at the mines because when the teacher asked him if he was the guide, he lied and said yes. He got pretty far until he got caught letting the kids into a restricted area. He's an idiot."

Edward glared over at me. "You thought I was _him_?"

"His picture was in your file. How was I supposed to know?"

"He's not even good looking."

"He _is_ good looking." Liar or not, I know fine when I see it.

But still, if I was being honest with myself – despite public opinion it is something I am able to do on occasion – Edward had become much more appealing to me than "Fitch". And now that I knew the liar's name, he was even _more_ unappealing!

I leaned against the wall and looked up through my lashes at Edward. "So are you pissed at me?"

"I should be," he said as he joined me on my bed. "You've been acting like a total bitch and you've basically been lying to me the entire time I've known you."

"Edward, I haven't. I just told you that I thought you were somebody else."

"Whatever."

The expression on his face…it kind of reminded me of the one I wore at that party when Edward had spent the entire night talking to that dumpy bitch. Not that I was jealous…I mean…not really.

"I'm gonna call Craig and ask him if I can crash at his place, but he has a 509 area code and I didn't want to call long distance from your phone without asking." Edward looked everywhere but at me as he spoke.

Now that everything was all out in the open, I had no problem deciphering what I was feeling for him, and I definitely didn't want him to go.

"Edward..."

"What?" he answered as if he had no choice.

"I don't want you to go."

I thought he was going to try to humiliate me into begging him to stay, but he didn't. He simply stared at me.

And then his stomach growled.

"Hungry?" I asked.

"Hell yeah. There's nothing to fucking eat but diet food in this house."

"There's a ton of food. You just have to know where to look."

I led Edward toward my secret stash of junk food and settled him down with a bag of chips while I made spaghetti. It appeared as though the awkwardness that had just ensued was a thing of the past. We made it through our meal without its ugly head reappearing.

But afterwards, while we sat side-by-side on the couch with ice cream sundaes, not far enough away from one another to hint at a problem, but definitely not close, Edward revealed how much something I'd said was still bothering him.

"This guy's a total douche." I pointed to the television screen with my spoon.

"Well maybe he should dye his hair blonde and get some blue contacts. That seems to be all it takes with you," Edward quipped.

Now, normally, I'm the last person on the planet that would invite myself to someone else's pity party. I mean, if you want to feel sorry for yourself, then by all means, go for it. Just leave me the fuck out of it.

Again I say, that's _normally_, how I feel. But something about Edward's vulnerability…it has an effect on me. Which is why, instead of making fun of him, I found myself scooting closer to him and placing my hand on his knee.

"Edward, you know that I'd never choose that guy over you now, right?" When he simply shrugged and looked away from me, I knew he was as uncomfortable as I was with all the touchy feely stuff, but he needed to hear it. And somehow, I needed to say it.

"Edward I…I c-care…about you."

"You c-care about me?"

That fucker had no problem making fun of me. So I stuck my fingers in my bowl of ice cream and wiped them across his face. It was totally childish, but it felt good.

Edward wasted no time reciprocating and in a flash we were engaged in a full on ice-cream-slathering contest. The weight of worry that had highlighted his features for the past twenty-four hours momentarily lightened and it was nice to hear his laughter even though I didn't appreciate him dumping his bowl of ice cream down the front of my shirt.

"Eeww! I'm all sticky," I moaned, totally sounding like those college-aged bimbos down at the docks when they flirted with the seamen.

Edward placed his hand on the side of my neck in a gesture much too gentle to prolong our play.

"I'm sticking to you," was his following reply.

But when I looked up and saw the intense way he was gazing down at me, it was clear that his words had little to do with the effect his skin was having on mine.

"I'm sticking to you, too," I whispered back.

And just like that, his lips were on mine and finally, after days and hours of no physical contact, I was once again burning under the desire that only Edward had been able to induce in me. Consumed with a voracious appetite for his kiss, I sucked his tongue into my mouth and entwined my fingers into his hair. He responded by wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close. When his hands lifted my shirt and rested on the small of my back I shivered in anticipation of skin to skin contact. There was no denying what we were both craving.

Suddenly Edward moved his hand along my back and I let out a tiny yelp as the ice cream residue caused a tugging friction against my skin.

Edward peppered my lips with a final kiss before stating, "I think we need a shower."

My eyes reflected back the smoldering gaze in his as we both considered the ecstasy that awaited us on the other side of the bathroom door.

Faster than my mind could capture, I made it to the bathroom with Edward quick on my heels. As Edward turned on and tested the water, I disrobed completely. He followed suit while I retrieved my shampoo and conditioner from underneath the sink.

"Love the view," Edward said as he stepped over to me and cupped my ass in his hands.

"Likewise," I said in between kisses as I lightly fondled his erection.

_Maybe we should take a shower later…_

However, I wasn't able to give voice to my thoughts before Edward stepped into the shower and pulled me in after him. Together we stood underneath the spray of hot water and indulged in a heat all our own.

Without putting much distance between our bodies, I poured a palm-full of soap into my hands before lathering up Edward's body. I made great care of lavishing attention to Edward's chest, his balls, his ass and his enormous cock. I was just about to drop to my knees and worship at the altar of The Hard One when Edward grabbed the bottle of soap and squirted it onto my chest. Dropping the soap, his hands wasted no time rubbing, caressing and kneading their way over my skin.

And then I was turned away from Edward, facing the rear tile wall as Edward massaged shampoo into my hair. I trembled under the strength of his fingers swirling through the tendrils of my damp locks, yet by the time he'd rinsed out the suds and grabbed for the conditioner, I was beyond impatient for a more satisfying touch. But Edward continued to coat my hair in the silky cream as if he had all the time in the world. I was just about to warn him that I might be open to rethinking my position on his heterosexuality when I felt the long downward pulls of his hands straining the conditioner out of my hair…onto my back…down my back…onto my ass…between my ass…

Silently Edward worked as he layered the thick cream on my sensitive flesh.

"Edward," I whispered, a protest ready on my lips.

"Ssshh," he comforted as his body neared mine. I felt the urgent probing of his thick head against my ass as he leaned down and captured the flesh at the side of my neck in a loving bite.

Without saying a word, his hands traveled down my arms, and when they reached my hands, he lifted them and pressed my palms against the cold wet tile wall.

"I can't," I said quietly, unsure if I was or wasn't ready for what I knew Edward was suggesting. "I've never…"

"Let me make you feel good, Bella," Edward whispered against my ear.

"But it hurts…"

"I won't hurt you," he promised in a low tone as his tongue slipped past his lips to tease the edge of mine. "Trust me?"

It was a question that he waited expectantly for me to answer. And just like he had put his trust in me – to let him stay at my house, to keep his secrets from the authorities and everyone else we collectively knew – it was now my turn to trust him with more than my desire and my body and my comfort. It was my turn to trust him with the unknown.

"Yes." The murmured word was barely uttered before Edward's mouth was on mine, devouring me with a kiss that took my breath away. His hands once again covered mine as he held them to the wall and pressed my chest up beside them. The dichotomy of the cold stone, the warm water and Edward's hot flesh against mine piqued my senses.

One hand disappeared seconds before I felt the rasp of Edward's knuckles as he positioned himself to enter me as I'd never been entered before.

"Relax." His words drifted over the baby fine hair at my nape and his hand, no longer required as a guide, wafted across my belly, down my pelvis and between my legs.

"Mmm," I encouraged him as fingers opened me and ghosted over my clit. I leaned into his hand as I sought more direct contact, but Edward kept his touch light…in the front.

In the rear, I felt him.

The pressure as he pressed into me, painstakingly slow, inch by inch, was like nothing I'd ever experienced. Just when I thought I'd arrived, Edward's fingers would tease my nub and my body would contract from the exertion of the release that was attempting to build up.

Suddenly Edward began to rock into me and the push and pull of my body – the need to expel him, while at the same time draw him in – became overwhelming. I clenched my teeth against the force of his delicious intrusion and fought to retain control.

"Just let it go," Edward murmured against my lips. "I've got you."

"But it's…I can't…I'll…it feels like I'm going to…"

"You won't."

And then Edward brought both hands between my legs. Three fingers entered my pussy while the thumb and forefinger of his right hand rolled and pulled at my clit until I was openly begging for anything and everything he could give me.

And so he obliged.

"Aaah!" I cried out (though whether in pain or pleasure I'm not sure) when Edward's hips lay flush against my backside, his penis fully immersed in my ass.

He held still for a moment as he waited for my comfort level to catch up with my level of pleasure. Slowly he began to pump…in and out…in and out…

An appreciative groan erupted from Edward and I knew he had to be close. My body was practically levitating under the feelings he was provoking and I had to completely surrender my body to his as the ability to stand up under what he was doing completely left me.

"Uuhhh," I managed as I leaned back so that Edward could reach my lips. I wanted to kiss. I wanted to bite. I wanted to devour, to be devoured. I wanted to fuck.

"Fuck me, Edward!" I begged.

"You want get fucked?" Edward growled as he switched hands, lifting my left thigh over his left forearm and burying three fingers of his right hand deep inside me. Quickly and fiercely he pummeled me with his fingers. "You like that?"

My only answer was to attach my lips to his neck, licking and sucking as he ravished me with his hands.

And his dick.

"Oh!"

"You fuckin' love it. You fuckin' love it, don't you?" Edward insisted as he moved faster against me, thrusting into my ass.

And he was right. I _did_ fucking love it. And as I had that realization, a raging orgasm gripped me from the inside out and my entire body constricted in euphoria.

The tensing of muscles pushed Edward over the edge and in a guttural moan of pleasure he pulled out moments before bathing my back in the essence of his climax.

We stayed in the shower long after we were sated, holding one another and kissing until the water ran cold.

Later we lay underneath the sheet on my bed in companionable silence. There was so much I wanted to say, but at the same time, I felt compelled to say nothing at all.

And so we just lay there with the unspoken words between us…

…until Edward reached down and threaded his fingers through mine.

And in his silence, I heard him loud and clear.

_Yes. I'm sticking to you, too._


	15. Chapter 15

It wasn't even dinnertime yet and I was basking in the afterglow of my fourth orgasm. I burrowed underneath my comforter and scooted closer to Edward's warm body.

"Who needs a treadmill when they have you around?" Edward joked.

I stiffened at his words. It didn't sound like a wisecrack to me. It sounded like a complaint – a complaint I had heard many times before as soon as the relationship started to get comfortable.

_Bella, give a guy a break. What's with you? Insecure or something? We just had sex two hours ago, what's your problem? What are you, a nympho? _ I'd heard it all before, and I was in no hurry to hear it again.

"Getting tired of me already?" I jokingly scoffed as I wrapped my concern in humor.

"Are you kidding?" Edward reached down and put my hand on his very hard, very erect, very ready cock. "I could never get tired of you." He shifted even closer to me and rested his erection against the back of my thigh. "Or have you forgotten that you're the reason I'm in this mess in the first place."

"When are you going to stop giving me a hard time about the fact that I told you to stop taking your meds? You and I both know I did you a favor."

"That's not what I meant."

I turned over to face Edward, imploring him to explain himself with the questioning look in my eyes.

"You know…the court order…" he hinted. When I continued to look perplexed, he added, "your age. Technically I'm not allowed to date minors."

"So the secret's out. _That's_ why you work at the Silver Screen. You're trying to score with the senior crowd."

"You caught me," Edward said with mock sincerity. "But man, until you've gotten head from someone who doesn't have their teeth in, you haven't lived."

Despite my disgust, I couldn't help laughing. "You're gross, Edward."

He moved over me and smirked. "You didn't think I was so gross a few minutes ago when I was eating your pussy," he said right before nuzzling against my neck.

_So crass. So blunt. So sexy. Seriously, there were no words for how turned on I was._

Despite the sensations Edward was causing against my neck with his lips, what he'd said suddenly caught up to my brain and it didn't make any sense to me.

"Wait…you can't date because you're a minor? What the hell is that about?" I asked.

"No," Edward began as if I required remedial instruction, "I can't date a minor, a.k.a. under the age of eighteen."

"Then what's the problem?" I raised my palms to accentuate my question. "I'm not a minor."

Edward reared back quickly to look me in the eye. "You're seventeen." Although he'd made a statement, it came out more as a question.

"I'm eighteen," I clarified.

"Are you shittin' me?"

"No." For some odd reason, I found his astonishment funny and a giggle erupted from me. Edward mistook this for tomfoolery. _[Seriously, how did that word end up in the English language? I mean, who the hell is Tom and he must have been one clusterfuck of a fool to have that term named after him.]_

"Don't fuck with me, Bella," he warned.

"I'm not," I laughed some more. "I'm eighteen." Then, to punctuate my point, I threw back the covers, traipsed over to my backpack and pulled out my driver's license. "Here." I tossed it to him.

Quickly Edward scrutinized the card before looking up at me in awe. "Do you know how worried I've been for nothing? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you knew. I mean…didn't I tell you?"

Edward just shook his head. "What kind of bassackwards idiots are we?"

"Speak for yourself. I knew how old you were, what school you went to, your birthday, your _natural_ hair color – and all before we'd said our first hello. You're the one who didn't know anything about me." I looked over at him. "Is this the way you always are with girlfriends?"

As soon as the word _girlfriends _was out of my mouth, I wished I could snatch it back. Even though it was clear that Edward and I considered one another more than mere friends, he hadn't exactly claimed me as his girlfriend, and I wasn't clear as to how he was going to react to my words. He might laugh, grimace or worse – object.

But before I could take it back, Edward answered me without missing a beat.

"Nothing about our relationship is standard. In one way, I know a lot more about you then I would normally know about another girl I went out with, but then, in other ways, I don't know basic stuff." He turned to me suddenly. "Like, what's your favorite band? Color? What college do you want to go to? Do you like sports?"

I arched my eyebrow at the last question.

"Sports? Really?" I frowned. "You can't answer that question on your own by now?"

"Right, no sports," Edward assessed.

"And who cares what my favorite color is?" I shrugged. "We don't have to try to be that couple that knows every sickening detail about one another's lives. We don't go for bike rides in the park or on double dates with our friends. That's not who we are; that's not what we're about."

So color me a liar, when two nights later, we were sitting across a booth from Jasper and Alice in a greasy spoon just outside of town.

"Your sister called me, Edward. She hates my guts and she still called me, so you know this is serious," Alice began.

"It's not serious, it's a power play. She's just trying to control me," Edward responded.

Alice shook her head in disagreement. "She said your mother is really upset and your parents are considering calling the cops. Rosalie said the only reason she hasn't told your parents where you are is because she thought you'd wise your ass up and come home. You know what you need to do, Edward." Alice looked over at me as she spoke the last sentence, as if gauging whether or not she'd said too much in my presence.

"I'll go home when my parents accept the fact that I'm not going along with their cruel and unusual punishment," Edward stated.

"It's not their fault. They're just doing what they have to do, and you know it. Plus, going home isn't all you need to do." Alice pointedly looked in my direction and I rolled my eyes at her.

"Is she serious?" I asked Edward as if Alice weren't present. Then, I directed my inquiry straight at her. "Who do you think you are?"

"Unlike you, I'm somebody who understands how dangerous your relationship with Edward is to his future-"

"You make me sound like a can of Aqua Net and a Zippo lighter," I huffed. When Edward chuckled at my words, my somber mood immediately lightened and I leaned against him playfully; we shared a barely-there grin.

"Oh say it isn't so…" Alice cried before she slapped her palm against her forehead.

"What? What's wrong?" Jasper, totally oblivious to the occasion, asked as he looked between Alice and Edward.

"They're together," Alice stated dryly. "Like, _together_ together."

"Oh." Jasper's grin faded when he remembered whatever it was that Alice had most likely told him about Edward. "_Oh."_

"I'm not breaking any rules by being with Bella. She's eighteen." Edward said. I could be imagining it, but it kind of seemed like he puffed out his chest a little bit in pride.

Alice looked over at me. "That matters?"

"She's not a minor," Edward shrugged.

"Well then…I mean…why are you hiding out? Since you're not doing anything wrong, why don't you just go home and-"

Edward quickly intercepted Alice's tirade. "I'll go home when my parents understand that they're being unreasonable. It's not really my mom, but my dad… Man-to-man, he's got to know that what he wants me to do is more than just cruel. It's brutal."

To his credit, if Jasper knew the details of what Alice and Edward were talking about, he gave no indication that he did, nor did he ask any questions. I figured his nonchalance must be a byproduct of Alice's secretiveness.

"Edward, your dad's just trying to keep you safe the best way he knows how. He's only enforcing what you were told," Alice went on.

Edward shook his head in disagreement. "He's enforcing his own rules. He thinks he knows everything."

"He _is_ a doctor, Edward," Alice stated.

"And yet another person under the misconception that that actually means something," Edward waved fleetingly in Alice's direction before turning his gaze on her. "He farts and shits like everyone else, Alice, and when this whole fiasco started, he had no idea what to do. He asked everyone for advice and made up some of his own. Just because he has two initials after his name, it doesn't mean he's God."

"Okay, you're _way_ overreacting," Alice returned.

I put my hand on Edward's thigh as a sign of solidarity, even though I kind of agreed with Alice in a way. Yeah, it sucked that Edward's dad wanted to force him to take penis-disabling meds, but I mean, his situation _could_ be worse…

"At least your dad isn't a shrink. Because being psycho-analyzed every second of the day is the gift that can't be returned," I said.

"Okay. You win," Edward said right before he leaned over and kissed me. His kiss reminded me that I'd much rather be doing something else than listening to Alice stick her nose where it didn't belong.

"I hope you two know what you're doing," Alice sighed in defeat.

"Let's get out of here," I loudly whispered to Edward. Alice was getting on my nerves.

Edward agreed and we scooted out of the booth we were sitting in and headed for the door.

"I just worry about you, that's all," Alice qualified her meddling.

Edward looked between her and Jasper before tossing over his shoulder, "Stop worrying about me so much and worry about him a little more. If you're not careful, he's going to think you don't care."

I stuck around only long enough to see the look of horror that filtered across Alice's face at Edward's words.

"That's not true," she admonished with wide eyes; then she turned to Jasper, "You know I care about you, right?"

Jasper allowed a lazy grin to take over the lower half of his face. "He's just yanking your chain. He knows how to get you all riled up."

If anyone was riled up, it was me and Edward couldn't get me home fast enough. As soon as his mood had brightened at the realization that he wasn't exactly doing anything illegal, we'd resumed our favorite pastime of mattress aerobics…but it _had_ been a few hours.

"You've got that look on your face again," Edward said with a side-winding grin.

"I'm horny," I said as if it deserved no excuse.

"I know. I can smell you."

I looked over at him when he said that, not sure if he was insulting me or not. But before I could articulate how I was feeling, Edward pulled the car on the side of the road before swiveling in his seat and turning toward me.

"I don't think I've ever been so turned on in my life. If I said I wanted you, right here, right now…"

"In the middle of nowhere?"

"It's dark out. No one will see."

"I think I'm too horny for the car," I deduced. "I need more room."

Even though it was dark out, I swear I saw Edward's eyes darken in lust as desire washed over his features.

"You need more room for what?" he asked huskily has he reached over and pulled me in for a kiss. "Huh? What do you need more room for?" he asked against my lips.

"I need more room _not_ to freeze my ass off," I said in my normal voice.

Edward reached around me and grabbed my ass. "You don't have to worry about that. I'm gonna fuck you so hard, your pussy will see sparks." He bit down on the tendon in my neck.

_Not quite._

"Is that what you want? Huh? You want me to set you on fire?"

_Wait for it…_

"Lay your seat back and spread those legs for me, baby. Gimme that pussy."

_Ding-ding-ding! We have a winner, folks!_

Seriously, Edward could almost say any old cheesy thing in that sexy whisper of his and I was a goner, not that it took much to get me going, but still…

The seat was barely reclined before I felt Edward's hand slide between my legs and start groping me over my underwear.

But it wasn't enough. It was as if scratching poison ivy with a feather. I needed more and I needed it _now_, as if my next breath depended upon it.

Quickly I pushed down my pants and my underwear, not caring that Edward had to briefly stop what he was attempting to do to me in the meantime, and also no longer caring that I was in a car in the middle of nowhere in the pitch black of night even though I had a perfectly _empty-of-parents _home a few miles away.

Instead, I opened my legs and returned Edward's hand to my crotch, this time without the barrier of material.

"You're right. You _are_ too horny for the car," Edward said right before moving to the backseat. When I moved to follow him, he held me back and reached over to level my seat so that it was lying as far back as it would go.

I was about to whine and protest that he was taking too long when I noticed him reaching for the button on his pants. I was almost to the point of salivating as I watched him push away the fabric. The smooth skin of his shaft was barely visible before my hands were on him, rubbing and fondling him, licking his tip and caressing his balls.

Not seeming to care about the awkward position, Edward leaned over me and dived face first into my pussy.

"Oh _yes!_" I moaned when he used both hands to stroke inside my pussy lips, pull me open and boldly lick me from top to bottom.

Still, I craved more, and just like in every other situation, Edward was able to read my non-verbal cues. While lightly nipping and biting at my clit with his teeth – _I can't even begin to describe how good that felt _– his right hand moved down to my slit and he impaled me with three fingers. He knew exactly what I liked. Two fingers wasn't enough and four was just a bit much unless I was extremely wet, which I was on the verge of achieving.

"Oh, Edward," I muttered between episodes of deep-throating him and sucking on his balls. "Mmm, that feels so good."

But Edward was uncharacteristically silent as he continued his ministrations. In and out the fingers of his right hand thrust as his tongue swirled and teased my clit. Just when I'd get used to the pattern, he'd nip or roll my clit between his lips.

I showed my appreciation by opening my legs as wide as possible and moaning my gratitude. Edward stepped it up a bit then and ravished me with a lightning speed sucking and licking technique that I knew I wouldn't be able to endure for long. Needless to say, I was adequately distracted from his left hand that began to creep lower and lower until it was sliding between my ass cheeks.

Instinctively I stiffened and clinched, but Edward just softly stroked the crevice, as if willing me to remember the one time I'd allowed him entry.

Without missing a beat of the rhythm of his other motions, he reached up, coated the middle finger of his left hand with the juices from my pussy and then once again moved down between my ass cheeks.

Slowly I relaxed just enough to allow him to push in the tip of his finger. Then he was laving against my clit again and I could feel my orgasm starting and I wasn't about to deny him anything. Edward pushed his finger further in and then began to pulse it in tune to the fingers in my pussy.

I was in heaven.

I was also slightly curious as to how far-reaching Edward's affinity for the ass was. I mean, did he simply like to give in that area, or did he like his ass fondled too?

Before giving it a second thought, I glided my hands up his thighs and around to his ass. I was on full alert as I awaited some signal from Edward that he didn't want me to do this, but none came, and so I moved on, quickly licking my finger before parting his flesh and inserting it into his asshole.

The throaty moan that escaped from Edward spurred me on and I pumped my finger in and out of his hole, just as he was doing to me – all the while continuing to give him head. In an instant, Edward's legs began to tremble and he appeared unable to help the undulation of his hips as he began to copulate with my mouth, thrusting so deeply that it catapulted me into orgasm.

Suddenly, Edward became more vocal than I'd ever heard him as he grunted, groaned and panted in pleasure. Intrigued, I moved to insert a second finger and in doing so I must have startled him because he let out such a primal wail that I froze, and was therefore totally unprepared for the load he blew down my throat.

It had been a long time since I'd choked from head and, therefore, I was utterly embarrassed as Edward and I shifted apart and began putting ourselves back together after our sexual escapade. If Edward noticed how long it took me to actually swallow his ejaculate, he made no mention of it. Instead, he climbed back into the driver seat and sat silently until I was completely resituated and had returned my seat to an upright position.

We sat in motionless silence for a few minutes before I chanced a quick glance at Edward. He was watching me closely, but that cautious glimpse seemed to be all it took to loosen his tongue.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I nodded. "Are you?" I whispered back. For some reason, I was preparing myself for him to lay into me for what I'd done to him.

"Are you kidding?" It was the most giddy I'd ever heard him. "That was the best head job I've ever gotten in my life!"

"Really?" I turned and looked up at him through my lashes. I felt my muscles start to relax at the look of pure sexual satisfaction on Edward's face.

"Hell yeah." He reached over and pulled me closer for a kiss. "But you look a little freaked out."

I shook my head after giving Edward a small peck on the lips. "I'm not freaked out, I just wasn't ready when you came. Usually I can tell you're about to, but…sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" Edward laughed at me.

"So you're not pissed that I …you know?" I knew he wasn't, but the baser part of me just wanted to hear him say it.

"Bella, I'm trying to keep from asking you to do it again, right now," Edward said and I laughed at his unconcealed begging.

"Seriously," he continued, "no one's ever done that to me."

"Really?" Something the great sex-god hadn't experienced?

"Really."

"What else haven't you ever done?"

"Hmm…" Edward pondered as he started the car and carefully maneuvered back onto the road. "There's not much I haven't done…"

"Been with a guy?"

"Okay, there's one."

"Been fucked in the ass with a dildo?"

"Make that two."

"Um, how about-"

"Have _you_ been fucked in the ass with a dildo?" Edward interrupted.

"No. I told you, before you, it was strictly an exit-only site."

"Have you ever been with a girl?"

"Nope. I have a purely penis-bias."

"Have you-"

"Hey, it's my turn," I said, sharply aware of how easily awkwardness dissipated between Edward and I. It was so easy to be around him that it was almost effortless. Almost.

"Have you ever been in love?" I asked quietly.

Edward looked over at me quickly and then, just as swiftly, returned his attention to the road. But he didn't answer me. In fact, he was silent for so long that I gave up waiting and was wracking my brain for another question when he finally responded.

"No." He said simply. "I've never been in love."

"Me either," I returned. Not necessarily because it was true, but mainly because I didn't want him to think I thought there was something wrong with him because he'd never been in love. Because even though I don't know that much about love, I do know that there are a lot more people that _think_ they experience it than there are that actually do.

"Have you ever been outside messing around so long that you actually got sunburned on your vag?" Edward asked.

I couldn't stop the laughter that accompanied the weirded-out look I gave him. "Okay _random_. What the hell?"

"I overheard one of my sister's friends say that it took some guy so long to find her clit that she actually got sunburn down there from having her legs open so long."

"Well I can, fortunately, say that that has never happened to me… Though I don't know if a sunburn would be too high a price to pay for having my legs open for a long time with a guy who did know his way around a clit."

"Hey!"

"Hey what? I didn't say you didn't."

"Well you make it sound like I leave you longing or something."

"No I don't. You're just really good at getting me off, but the idea of it taking a while…I don't know…it has a certain appeal to it."

"You always beg for me to get you off."

I grinned. "I do, don't I?"

"Damn straight," Edward answered indignantly.

I smiled to myself as I relaxed against my seat and watched the familiar scenery amble by as we neared my house. I was overcome by that feeling of being content that was becoming a constant when I was in Edward's presence and because of that, I refused to allow the sense of worry to wash over me – worry that soon my mother would be home and the little cocoon of togetherness that Edward and I had wrapped around ourselves would be cracked open and we would be…where?

Yeah, that was a worry for another time. For now, we would just…

"What do you want to do tonight?" I asked Edward as he pulled my car to a halt in front of my house.

"I'm going to finish off that awesome pasta you made yesterday, then I'm going to sit on the couch with my feet up and stick my hands down the front of your pants and play with you for as long as you can stand it until you beg me to make you cum."

"Mmm," I expressed my fondness for his idea for our evening activities, "and will you kiss me during this masturbation-marathon?" I asked as I got out of the car.

"There might be kissing," Edward evaded as he tossed me my keys and walked with me to the front door.

"Well, gee…since my mouth will be otherwise occupied, I'll have to think of some way to return your favors…with my hands or my fingers..."

"I like the way you think."

"That's not all you like about me," I tossed over my shoulder as I moved ahead of him to the porch to open the front door.

But the playful banter died in my throat when I saw that Edward had stopped moving and was staring at the ground absently.

"Edward?" I prompted.

He looked up then and reached for my arm, effectively pulling me into his embrace.

"What I said earlier in the car…about never being in love?"

"Yeah?"

He looked me in the eye as he lowered his forehead to rest against mine. "I meant 'not yet'."

"Oh," I said… "Me, too."

And then we stood on the porch and kissed like a couple of love-sick teenagers who didn't have a care in the world – like meddling friends and sisters weren't disapproving, or nosy neighbors couldn't report inappropriate PDA or a police car or angry parents couldn't pull up at any moment.

Instead, we basked in the glow of our "not yets", on the precipice of the most intense feelings either of us had ever felt – having no clue as to how soon those feelings would be stretched and pulled and tested.

* * *

><p><em>I've gotten a few emails about the use of the word "cum" instead of "come". Simply, I like the urban-dictionary feel of the word. To me, "come" means something non-sexual and it takes me out of the moment when I read it written that way and I just like how the word cum keeps you in the story - it has the right feel to it. So yes, I'm aware that it technically isn't a word in the Webster [dictionary] sense, but it's a slang word that I prefer to use.<em> _Okay...til next time!_


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